Turnings
by Natsgirl
Summary: What do you do when you realize you've made the biggest mistake of your life? Sookie Stackhouse has made a mess of everything she's touched. Does she have the strength and courage to accept the unexpected gift life hands her and turn her life around?
1. Chapter 1 - Every Time A Bell Rings

Chapter 1 – Every Time a Bell Rings

It seemed hard to believe that only a few years ago, Sookie Stackhouse was standing where she stood right now, thrilled that a vampire finally walked into Merlotte's. Sookie remembered thinking that Bill Compton sitting at her table signaled the beginning of her whole new life.

If she was being perfectly honest, in most ways Bill Compton walking in that day had signaled a beginning of things. After Eric Northman had left her, a little over a month ago, Sookie remembered thinking that his departure signaled a new beginning, too. Instead of being the start of her 'exciting' life, though, she was sure Eric's leaving was the start of her 'normal' life. She had crossed her arms and declared that she was Sookie Stackhouse and that Bon Temps was where she belonged.

Now, she wasn't so sure.

Everything that happened over the past month unfolded the way she imagined it would. Sookie opened her arms to Sam Merlotte and they had slept together. The first couple times were nice, even exciting. Sam didn't demand her full attention in bed, the way Eric Northman had. He didn't expect her to perform oral sex or flip around in multiple positions. He was pretty much happy any way he got it, and he was grateful afterward in a way that made Sookie feel just a little bit uncomfortable. It wasn't that Sookie didn't like suggesting things, but, after their third time together, Sookie realized she knew a lot more about sex than Sam and it made her feel kind of cheap.

The last time Sam came out to her house for dinner, Sookie could tell he expected to spend the night. He walked into her front parlor after they ate and sat close to her on the couch. He dropped his arm across her shoulders and toed off his shoes on the floor. As he leaned toward her, that look in his eye, she told him she was really tired and sent him home. Sookie realized she wasn't interested in having sex with Sam again. Truth be told, the more time she spent with him, the more she wondered what she'd ever seen in Sam aside from the fact that he was her friend and reliable. 'Husband material,' her sister-in-law told her.

Everyone liked Sam. People seemed to like her more because they thought she was with him. Every day stretched out in front of Sookie like every other day. Sookie got up and went to the restaurant in the morning. Sam walked in through the back from his trailer and got cash registers filled and the bar stocked. Waitresses arrived and side work was done. When Sam finished with the bar, Sookie started counting to three, knowing before she got to four he would look up and call her "Cher" and smile his happy smile.

At first, when he slipped his arm around her in the hallway and pulled her close to kiss her, she felt special. She even felt a little thrill when he did it in his office or someplace folks couldn't see, but last week, he pulled her forward across the bar and tried to kiss her on the lips in front of everyone.

For some reason, it upset her. She turned her head and pushed Sam away. She could see his confusion and she mumbled that she just wasn't ready to be so public. "Okay, Cher," he'd frowned and walked away. Sookie couldn't explain why she felt relieved.

When she turned her head the next time, Sam asked her what the problem was. Sookie wished she could explain it.

In so many ways, she and Sam fit the picture of how Sookie thought a couple should be. Sam was the perfect height. He never did anything that caused problems with people. When he said he'd be somewhere, he was. When he said he'd do something, he did. No one was looking for him, and he wasn't interested in being anything other than what he was. It wasn't that Sam wasn't ambitious, he was hard-working. He just didn't seem to need to stand out in any way.

"I think I've made a mistake," Sookie told her friend, Tara, over the phone last night.

"I don't understand you," Tara sighed. "Sam would give you anything you asked. He thinks you hung the moon! You don't ever have to worry about whether he's coming home or going to show up with some kind of crazy complication! No one is going to be jumping out of the shadows trying to kill you anymore, Sookie Stackhouse! How is that wrong?"

"You're right," Sookie told her, "Sam is so… predictable."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Tara replied.

"It's not," Sookie told her friend, but she knew that in her heart, it was. Somehow, somewhere, Sookie had become used to vampire adventures and unexpected trips. While there were times in her past when she was terrified, as Sookie considered the life that awaited her now, her 'normal' life, she realized it didn't feel safe. This life that stretched out before her with Sam Merlotte felt flavorless.

There was more.

Eric Northman and she had bonded under strange circumstances. There was never any time for them to talk about it, what bonding meant. One emergency piled up on another. They went from bonded to pledged, and the next thing she knew, Eric was in deep trouble. The tension of their last year together was crushing. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. Sookie was so angry and so confused, and when he humiliated her by divorcing her in front of his future wife and his boss, so heartsick.

The last time she saw Eric Northman, she had been injured. She was lying in that hospital bed and Sam Merlotte was standing beside her. Eric offered her his blood to help her heal. Any vampire offering you his blood is a pretty big thing, and thinking back on it, knowing Eric had signed all kinds of contracts and agreements about not seeing her, Sookie figured if she'd taken it, it probably would have gotten him in trouble. But that wasn't what she was thinking about that night. She threw his offer back in his face because she wanted to hurt Eric the way he made her hurt.

Sleeping with Sam after that felt fine. Sookie told herself Sam was her next logical step to happiness. Now that time had passed and her emotions weren't so ragged, she realized that Sam wasn't about running to something. Taking Sam Merlotte into her bed had been about punishing Eric. ' _At least I wasn't stupid enough to have angry sex with Bill Compton_ ,' she thought morosely.

"Would you like to go out for a late supper, Cher?" Sam had walked up behind her without Sookie even realizing it. He touched her shoulder and she flinched.

Catching herself, Sookie shrugged, "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know what's wrong with me, but no. I think I really need some time alone."

"Sure, Sook, I understand," he smiled back, but Sookie could see he didn't understand, not at all.

When she pulled up the driveway to her house that night, Sookie caught sight of the flash of white along the tree line. Karin the Slaughterer was still out there, but Sookie didn't bother waving.

When Eric left to marry Freyda, the vampire Queen of Oklahoma, he made certain demands. The first was that Sookie Stackhouse would be able to live out her natural life without being molested, bit, or bothered by any vampire. The second demand was that his own vampire daughter, Karin, stand guard over Sookie for a whole year. Karin was commanded to patrol the grounds of Sookie's house every night, making sure that Eric's first demand was honored. Sookie knew Karin was sleeping in the dirt of the cemetery that adjoined her property during the day.

Sookie had heard Eric mention Karin once before, although not her name. She didn't actually meet Karin until those final, dark days when Eric stopped fighting the contract that would bind him to Freyda and take him away from Sookie. Even now, Sookie couldn't understand why Eric felt duty-bound to go along with it. The contract was drawn up by Eric's Maker, Appius Livius Ocella, a psychopath if ever there was one, and finally dead to boot, but Eric insisted. He told Sookie he'd tried every way to have the contract set aside, but to this day Sookie couldn't see why simply saying 'no' wasn't enough. Eric never signed it until the end, and even Sookie knew that a contract you didn't sign couldn't bind you.

Sookie had made an effort in the weeks following Eric's departure to speak with Karin, but Eric's child was blunt in her discouragement. "I'm only here to fulfill Eric's promise. We talked about this. I'm not doing this out of friendship and he didn't do this to be romantic." Karin had pulled herself up to her full height and looked down her nose, even though she wasn't any taller than Sookie. "I'm here to impress Freyda that Eric understands loyalty and takes care of his vassals, nothing more. Believe me, Sookie, he's moved on, and I can see you have, too." Karin ran away then, and the next time Sookie waved to her, Karin purposely turned and walked into the trees, and that's where things stood.

Sookie walked into her house and down the hall to her Gran's bedroom, the one that was hers now. With efficient, automatic gestures, she pulled off her work uniform. The shirt stuck a little, clammy with sweat and humidity, and the scent of burgers and chicken fingers clung to her.

Almost unconsciously, Sookie pulled open the second drawer of her little nightstand. It was where she kept the mementoes of her life. There was the velvet bag that held the drained cluviel dor. There was also a photo of her taken with her Gran and Jason. Once upon a time, the drawer held other things; her keys to Eric's house and the bullets she sucked from him. Sighing, she stood up and dropped her clothes in the laundry basket. Sookie padded naked across the hall to the bathroom and turned the water on hot. She stood under the spray and reached for the soap, but, instead of taking it, she balanced her hand against the wall, lowered her head, and started to cry.

This was her life now, the one she wished. She would walk from restaurant to house, from house to shower, from shower to bed. She would have a safe, boring lover who would slobber on her and she would never know another moment of mystery or intrigue or danger ever again. Sookie sank down into the tub, wrapping her arms around her legs. Never again would she feel his cool hands on her body. Never again would he lick and nuzzle and bite. Never again would she feel the long length of him as he breathed in her ear.

She used to tell Eric that she couldn't tell if she loved him; that the bond screwed her up too much to tell, but now she knew. "I love you!" Sookie sobbed under the running water, and the emptiness of her heart let her know how true it was.

When she got up the next morning, Sookie barely made it to the bathroom before she was throwing up. Her head hurt and her stomach turned, and then turned again. Almost as quickly as it came, the feeling passed, and Sookie turned on the sink faucet. Holding her hair with one hand she leaned over, swished the mouthful of water, and spit. Standing up, she looked at her reflection. She had dark circles under her eyes and she caught a glimpse of the blue box behind her. "No," she said. Walking out of the bathroom, Sookie headed to the kitchen and flipped up the calendar. She had her last period shortly before Eric left. She counted back, looking at the appointments and events she wrote down, and then flipped back to today's date. In all her life, Sookie Stackhouse hadn't missed one period, not since she was fourteen, but now she was late.

Sookie's stomach dropped again, but differently than earlier. She felt hollow as she walked to the old kitchen table and sat down. Leaning forward on her arms, Sookie stared out the back door where the sun turned the backyard into a bright canvas of greens and golds. "What am I going to do?" she asked no one in particular.

The future played out across Sookie's imagination. Sam would insist on marrying her. He'd want to move out here, thinking it would make her comfortable, but every day that she walked through these rooms seemed to make her memories crowd closer. ' _Trapped_ ,' the word took root and wouldn't leave.

Sookie got up and made coffee, and she thought. When it was past time for her to be at the restaurant, Sam called her cell, the same phone Eric bought her long ago. "I'm sorry, Sam," she heard herself say, "I should have called earlier. I'm just not up to coming in today." It wasn't anything the old Sookie Stackhouse ever would have done. The old Sookie Stackhouse would have already called around until she found someone to cover her shift. The old Sookie Stackhouse would have called Sam first and told him she wasn't coming in, but that was then.

Something was happening and to Sookie, it started to feel like a beginning.

The new Sookie Stackhouse, the one sitting numbly at the table, knowing in her heart of hearts that she was carrying Sam Merlotte's baby, could see a crossroads. Down one turn was everything she had been telling herself she wanted; a stable, normal life complete with husband, acceptance, and Bon Temps. Down the other road things were less clear, but it looked like a life that wasn't comfortable all the time, but, in exchange, it gave her the freedom of knowing there were always possibilities. When her head started hurting again, Sookie got up and brought back the yellow pad of paper and drew a line down the middle of the page. On the left, she wrote every reason she should stay. On the right, she wrote all the ways she could leave.

The sun went down by the time she picked up the phone and called Amelia Broadway. "You said one time you owed me," she told her former roommate. "I need to call in that favor."

xxxXXXxxx

 _Two years later…._

Eric Northman moved easily through his new restaurant, shaking hands and kissing cheeks. Once he'd accepted there was no way to honorably escape the contract that obligated him to marry Freyda, things here in Oklahoma became pleasant.

Eric's Maker, Appius Livius Ocella, had a well-earned reputation for cruelty. He turned up in Bon Temps after over a hundred years of silence. Eric had only been recently pledged by the knife to Sookie Stackhouse, and Eric didn't think Appius' timing was coincidence.

Between tense hours spent dealing with an unstable vampire Appius had turned, his Maker informed Eric he had completed negotiations that tied Eric to Freyda of Oklahoma. It was highly unusual for a Maker to do this to his progeny, but the right of a Maker to command his child was inviolate. Had Eric's then King, Felipe de Castro, protested, there might have been a chance the contract would be set aside, but the truth was De Castro was happy to see Eric leave.

When Felipe took over Louisiana and Arkansas, Eric was the sole member of the then Queen's retinue to be left alive. Eric was a good money-maker and one of the oldest vampires in the Americas, so there was a practical reason behind the King's decision. As time passed though, De Castro came to regret his clemency. Eric was responsible for killing one of Felipe's lieutenants. Everyone knew it, but the silence of the vampires proved to Felipe that their first loyalty belonged to Eric Northman and not their King. When the opportunity presented, Felipe openly supported the contract that effectively sold Eric Northman to Freyda and forced his departure to Oklahoma.

Eric had wrangled and played every angle he had, but, in the end, he bowed to the inevitable. The initial pledging to Freyda was awkward, as was the obligatory fucking afterward, but then Freyda surprised him. The title of 'consort' suggested he would be subservient to the Queen. Most expected he would have to live in the palace with Freyda, subject to her whims and orders.

Instead, Freyda made clear to everyone that as her 'consort,' Eric Northman had the same freedoms and rights any neighboring King would have. The only difference was that Eric was expected to live within the borders of the state, and not in his own territory.

There were no demands to open joint bank accounts or turn over his businesses to Freyda. Felipe de Castro seized the businesses Eric had owned, like Fangtasia, that were in Louisiana, but Freyda insisted, even to the point of threatening a lawsuit, that the Nevada King pay Eric their worth. Freyda made introductions to various entrepreneurs and investors, all of whom were thrilled with the prospect of creating businesses with the famous Viking. There were no travel restrictions and Eric was encouraged to try his luck wherever he saw an opportunity.

"Of course, you'll be expecting your cut," Eric stated, following one of these early meetings.

"Of course I won't," Freyda laughed. "You're my consort. That exempts you from paying tithes." When Eric continued to probe, trying to figure out the Queen's angle, Freyda finally threw her hands up, "Eric! Relax! We're pledged. You've shown you're honorable and you've proved every good thing I ever believed about you. I really want you to be happy here and I think we can have a lot of fun."

As the weeks and then months passed, Freyda kept proving she meant what she said. It was assumed Eric would have his own residence, or residences. Freyda had no expectation that she would have immediate access to him, or that he was expected to respond immediately to her. When they did get together, it was because one called the other. At first, it was Freyda calling him, tempting him with concert tickets or some guest she thought he'd like to meet.

After a bit, and to Eric's surprise, he realized he liked Freyda's company. She was more than just a pretty face. Freyda was smart. She had an interesting perspective on the world around her and found unusual angles to argue. She was funny and, on more than one occasion, Eric found himself laughing with her. She wasn't clever in the way Sookie Stackhouse was clever, but, then again, she didn't continuously reject him either.

On that long, lonely trip from Louisiana to Oklahoma, Eric made sure he had plenty of time to consider Miss Stackhouse's many rejections. It was bitter, that recounting. He would tell Sookie how much he cared for her. She would reject him. He would double down, calling her his wife. She would reject him. In the end, he pleaded with her, for understanding, for help, for salvation. She threw it all back in his face, making her rejection public, humiliating him in front of rivals and friends alike.

He remembered each time she told him she loved him. He could count those times on less than two hands. Usually the declaration was quickly followed by her accusing the bond of being the real reason for her saying it in the first place, robbing him of any satisfaction.

' _Did she ever love me?_ ' he asked himself. As he settled in Oklahoma, into this new life where he was accepted and sought after, he decided the answer was no longer important. Sookie Stackhouse was in Louisiana, living her 'normal' life that no longer included him. She was living that life because she rejected everything he could offer her, and had he been less hard-headed, he would have abandoned her and their dysfunctional relationship long ago.

The restaurant he was opening tonight was just the latest in a series of successful entertainment ventures. Between his own assets and De Castro's payments, Eric Northman was cash rich. It all seemed so easy. The lessons he'd learned working for Sophie-Ann LeClerq, running Fangtasia, serving as Sheriff, all now bore fruit. The difference was that unlike before, there was no political maneuvering, no unseen potholes and traps for Eric to navigate. For the first time in a very long time, Eric Northman didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder, and the freedom he felt was euphoric.

In the beginning, Eric was sure his growing trust was misplaced; this had to be some elaborate charade designed to gull him. He was sure that like Appius, Freyda only waited that best opportunity when betrayal would hurt most. As time passed, and those opportunities presented themselves, instead of hurting him, Freyda supported him, and Eric found it made him anxious.

Following their first anniversary, Freyda suggested Eric consider talking with a professional. "I think you have many unresolved issues," she shrugged. "Maybe I'm wrong, but you may find it helps you regain a more positive outlook." She then lifted the ban on seeing his progeny as an anniversary present, and Eric started to believe that sometimes good things really could come with no strings attached.

It was during Pam's first visit Eric heard that Sookie Stackhouse had left Louisiana.

They spent Pam's first three days together with Freyda and they all had a wonderful time. They danced and laughed. They enjoyed what the night life of the city had to offer and talked about ways to expand businesses. Pam told them both stories about Area 5 and her work as the new Sheriff. Eric told Pam stories about vampires in Oklahoma. By the end of it, Eric could tell that Pam and Freyda honestly liked each other. He found it made him absurdly happy to have his child and consort on friendly terms.

Eric invited Pam to spend her last couple days at his residence outside the City. Pam passed most of the drive to the house talking about her impressions of the Queen. She and Freyda were planning a shopping trip to New York together for the upcoming Fashion Week. They discovered they had several acquaintances among the couturiers in common and were delighted to swap details. It made for a pleasant trip.

When they settled, bottles of Royalty in hand, Eric asked, "Where is Karin? I expected to see her come with you, but perhaps she is still celebrating her release from guard duty."

Pam looked down and Eric could see she was reluctant to say something. He waited, and after a bit she said, "If I want to explain this right, I'm going to have to use 'her' name. Is that permitted?"

It took a moment for Eric to realize Pam assumed his house was bugged. "You can feel free to speak here," Eric assured her. "I have my privacy. Freyda and I have an understanding. I like her, but you can see that. You can say 'Sookie Stackhouse' and you're not breaking any rules."

Pam looked closely at Eric, "Do you ever think about her now?"

"No," Eric lied. "Not for a long time. I think I'm finally over my obsession."

"Good," Pam told him. "Then you won't care when I tell you Sookie moved away from Bon Temps about a month after you left. She made arrangements with that friend of hers, Amelia Broadway, and she moved north, Boston or somewhere."

Eric felt something move in his chest, something uneasy. "Did she explain why?" he asked carefully.

"According to her brother, she decided she needed a change. She told him she had seen too much and now she couldn't rest easy in a small town anymore." Pam grinned, "The shifter was frantic at first, but he got over it. Last I heard he already moved on to a Were out of Shreveport."

"But what about her house?" Eric's jaw worked and he found that, in spite of everything, he was not unmoved by this information. In fact, the more he considered it, the more annoyed he felt.

"She sold it," Pam shrugged. "Left all the furniture, too. The demon attorney, Cataliades, handled it."

"But she comes home for holidays," Eric stated.

Pam's eyes narrowed. "No, Eric. I don't think she's been back since she left. Stackhouse says he hears from her once in awhile, that she's doing well, wherever she landed, but he hasn't mentioned her in months." When Eric continued to look away, Pam said, "I just thought you should know. I probably shouldn't have brought it up."

"So, it was all for nothing." Eric could hear how bitter his words sounded and he couldn't look at his child, "The extra hundred years, all the arrangements, for nothing! She was telling me the truth all along. I just couldn't hear it."

"What truth?" Pam asked.

"That she never loved me." The words felt like a stone in his chest, but, with them, Eric Northman felt that he finally accepted what he had been telling himself for some time.

"I don't believe that," Pam said softly. "I really don't, but having said that, I think Sookie did accept the impossibility of you being together before you did. I see how successful you are here. I haven't seen you this happy in a long time and it makes me happy for you. I think you've found a good place."

Eric nodded and purposely changed the subject to the upcoming Summit in San Antonio. Pam thought she'd be able to attend and they planned to spend time together. Several hours before sunrise, Pam retired to handle her emails and any outstanding Area 5 business.

Eric retreated into his sleeping chambers. Unlike his primary residence in Bon Temps, his chambers here were on the top floor instead of the basement. It was considered a luxury, sleeping out of the ground this way. Older vampires disapproved of these innovations, but for all his age, Eric enjoyed new things and this was one of those things.

Walking through to his closet, Eric pulled down a plain cardboard box he had stored on an upper shelf. It was still taped shut, but now, Eric broke the seal with his fingernail. Taking the box into the bed chamber, Eric shook the contents out onto the bed. There were several photographs and two spent bullets. Eric picked up each photo and ran his finger over her face, remembering the moment each of the handful of images was taken. After he'd examined each one, he slowly and deliberately ripped them to pieces. Next, he picked up the bullets from the bedspread and tossed them in a tray on his dresser. Tomorrow he'd send them to a jeweler to be set into cuff links, a reminder of what giving his heart cost him.

Gathering the bits of paper together, Eric walked into his office and dropped them in his trash basket. A scrap that had her smile stuck to the palm of his hand. "Get off!" he snarled, and flicked it from him.

' _She is done_ ,' he told himself, and resolved never to think her name again.


	2. Chapter 2 - If Wishes Were Horses

**Chapter 2 – If Wishes were Horses**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 _ **Present Day…**_

When Sookie called Amelia, her former roommate immediately suggested Sookie move north. "No one would expect it," she gushed. "I have contacts there!"

Amelia ended the call, promising she'd call back soon with a plan. As Sookie stared at the phone she was reminded of another time she asked Amelia for help. That time Amelia showed up in Bon Temps and cast a spell that sundered Sookie's bond with Eric. She never questioned Sookie's reasoning and never once asked Sookie if she'd really thought it through. "Am I really doing this again?" Sookie asked out loud.

Slowly, she rose and walked back into the bathroom. She stared at the stick sitting on the corner of the sink, the one proving she was just as pregnant as she felt.

Around noon today, the shock of things had eased and Sookie stood to get a glass of water. She asked her reflection in the window glass, "Could it be you're not pregnant at all?" Sookie realized with a start how much the pregnancy was factoring into her planning and how foolish she'd feel if she was wrong. Dressing with a new determination, Sookie drove three towns over to Minden to pick up a pregnancy test. She used the self-check line, her palms sweating the whole time, sure she'd run into a familiar face who would see her and 'know.'

When Sookie got home, she made a peanut butter sandwich, took a bite, and then marched into the bathroom. Five minutes later, staring at the plus sign, Sookie realized she didn't feel disappointed, anything but. She felt strangely happy, as if things were finally falling into a new, better pattern.

Sookie returned to the kitchen and spent more time with her notepad. She wrote down all the things that would happen if she stayed in Bon Temps.

Number one on the list was knowing that once her brother found out she was pregnant; he would demand she marry Sam Merlotte. While her relationship with her brother was better than it had been, there were still some things where Jason drew the line. His sister being unwed and pregnant, and living where they knew everyone was right up there. It didn't mean Jason could browbeat her into doing it. Sookie knew she'd fight him hard, but by the time he finished yelling and screaming and carrying on, there wouldn't be one person in the tri-county area who wouldn't know her story.

Even if things did calm down, this was Bon Temps. People would smile in her face, but when she sat in church she'd hear them thinking, and most would think she was a low trash loser who got knocked up and wasn't smart enough to marry the father first. That kind of thinking would carry to her baby. Whether it was a girl or a boy, this child would carry a mark against it if she stayed here and didn't marry.

Sookie looked at another of the items on the list. There were options to having this baby, including not having it at all. There were times in her past she had thought about children and she'd decided she didn't want any. Sookie grew up a telepath with a mother who was afraid of her and a father who didn't understand. All her life, Sookie felt an outsider, cursed by a disability. People called her names and she had few friends. She was terrified that any child of hers might be telepathic, too, and she never wanted a child to have to grow up the way she had.

Yet, now, faced with the reality, Sookie realized her feelings had changed.

Most of the reason she felt differently was because of her second cousin, Hunter. Hunter was the son of Sookie's only cousin, Hadley, and like Sookie, Hunter was born a telepath. When Sookie met him, he was only a little boy and he was struggling the same way she had. His father, Remy, knew there was something different about his son but, because it was strange and uncomfortable, he tried to ignore it.

Sookie spent some time with the boy. She talked with him about things. She told him that what he had was a gift and she helped him find ways to understand it and control it. She spent time with Remy, too, teaching him how to spot when his son was 'hearing' things, and coaching him in how to help his son.

The boy was in kindergarten now, and able to be around other children. Although he was still young, he could handle things better. No one called him crazy or tried to tell him it was all in his head. Hunter knew that he was different, and he knew that it was okay and because Remy understood more about it, they were able to arrange things at school, so Hunter wouldn't be put in situations that would overwhelm him.

The last time Sookie saw the family, Hunter looked so happy. He was playing outside with friends, to all appearances like any other normal, healthy boy. It was during that visit that Remy told Sookie he was recently engaged. His fiancée liked Hunter, and Hunter liked her. His fiancée did not like Sookie hanging around, or the talk that followed her. Remy asked Sookie if she would mind keeping her visits with Hunter to over the phone from now on. The request stung, Sookie was surprised how much, but Hunter seemed to be okay with it, and, so far, everything was going well.

What the experience taught her was that a child could be a telepath, like Sookie, and if there was an adult there who understood, things could actually work out. Thinking about it, Sookie didn't feel worried, she felt excited.

There were other things on the paper. There was the monthly income Sookie received from an account her Great-Grandfather had set up for her. There was the money in the passbook account Pam handed her shortly after Eric left. Sookie figured Eric had set it up, and at the time the thought of him 'paying her off' had her teeth grinding, but now it was welcome.

Sookie thought about whether she wanted to come back to Bon Temps. She looked around the room where she sat. This was the place where her Gran was killed. This was the house where Eric held her and promised to stay by her side when he didn't know who he was. This was the house where they made love on her porch and later Eric told her he should have just turned her against her will. Next to her list of assets, Sookie wrote, ' _Sell the house._ '

"There's nothing left for me here," Sookie said out loud, "Nothing but sad memories and regrets. I owe myself a new life." Sookie self-consciously placed her hand over her stomach, and a smile trembled across her lips. "I owe us a new life!" she declared.

She was shaking her head at her own foolishness when the phone rang. The caller ID told her it was Amelia, and Sookie picked up. "I have a plan," Amelia said without preamble. "I called Fran Miller. I don't know if you remember my mentioning her, but she's the woman who helped me discover my witchcraft."

"I don't," Sookie replied. Amelia had been a great talker, but 'Fran Miller' wasn't ringing any bells.

"She was my professor at Wellesley College when I was majoring in Women's Studies." Somehow this news didn't surprise Sookie. "Fran recognized my talent right away and she introduced me to people who helped me become who I am today. Anyway, she's mostly retired now, and she lives in Boston."

"Boston?" Sookie asked. "Isn't it cold up there?"

"Sure," Amelia laughed, "but if you dress right, you barely notice it." Somehow Sookie didn't think that sounded right. "Anyway, Fran recently lost her partner. She's living all alone in this brownstone she bought in the Back Bay when the area was still a dump. It's beautiful now and you can't touch properties up there for anything less than crazy money. So, I called her and she would be willing to let you live on her second floor."

"Why would she do that?" Sookie asked.

"Well, for one thing, she's heard of you," Amelia sounded too pleased.

"How is that?" Sookie felt her radar going up. She was technically immune from supernatural interference, at least vampire interference, but running toward someone who knew about that part of her life hardly seemed smart.

"Rhodes, Sookie!" Amelia sounded exasperated. "You're famous! Anyway, Fran is mostly writing now, and doing some guest lecturing. She only mentioned she'd heard of you and that a person willing to help people the way you did deserves help when she asks for it."

"Oh," Sookie felt a knot unwind within her, "So what do I need to do?"

"Pay rent for one thing," Amelia said. "She said she'd take $300 a month, which is next to asking for nothing, but she'd also want you to help with books and research. I told her you can cook fried chicken and biscuits that taste like heaven. Oh, and she wants you to get a job, so you won't be underfoot too much. She said people who don't work have too much time to get broody and she's already broody enough."

The sun was lowering and a ray slanted through the kitchen window. The light seemed to focus on the words ' _Sell the house_ ,' and Sookie felt as if it was a sign.

"Sounds good," she told Amelia. "I guess I'd like to talk with your friend."

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Sookie awoke the next morning with new energy. She made it into the kitchen and was singing as she got the coffee started. She had just pushed the brew button when the nausea hit and she barely had time to grab the trash bucket. "Oh great, another music critic," she grumbled good naturedly, wiping her mouth. She glanced at the coffee dripping and thought about something she'd seen on television, talking about how caffeine and pregnancy didn't mix. "Well, they will for this one," she grumbled, but in the next minute resolved to keep her coffee to two cups a day.

When she'd brushed her teeth and sat back down at the kitchen table, she reached for the yellow pad and flipped the page. Across the top, she wrote, ' _Things I Need to Settle_.' This would be the list of the things she'd need to do before she could start again. Looking around the kitchen, Sookie thought about what she wanted to take with her into this new life, and she realized that aside from her Gran's iron skillet and the old wood rolling pin, everything else in the kitchen could stay. Standing, Sookie walked into the living room. Her eyes lit on the old, ugly afghan lying across the back of the couch. It made her chest ache, looking at that old blanket, but as much as the memories that clung to it hurt, they were too much a part of her. "I'll have them wrap me in that when I die," she said out loud, and she closed her eyes, thinking of the times she and Eric had wrapped themselves in it and each other.

It was sharp, this pain Sookie now knew was her broken heart. She thought of something the heroine in Jane Austen's story " **Persuasion"** had said, that the only thing she claimed for women was that they loved longest when all hope was gone. "I guess I'll have a chance to find that out," she said out loud and brushed away the quick tears that fell over her cheeks.

When she finished walking around the house, Sookie realized that what was really important to her would fit in the trunk of her car. "Like I thought," she said to her reflection in the bedroom. "Your life here is just all used up."

Amelia called back around eleven. "Are you still thinking about going through with this?" she asked.

"It's the right thing for me," and Sookie knew she was resolved.

"Well, if you're serious, I'd like you to call Fran. I have her number. I think you'll like her. She's a pistol, like you." Amelia read off the number and Sookie checked it. "I guess I'm just surprised," Amelia said after a minute.

"About what?" Sookie asked.

"I never figured you'd leave Bon Temps," her friend replied. "You were so determined to get your life back and get all the supernatural complications out of it. I figured you and Sam…"

"About that," Sookie interrupted her. "Guess it won't be any big surprise to hear me say I was wrong-headed," and the quick catch in her throat surprised her.

"What are you saying?" Amelia asked. "Sookie, are you okay?"

"I think I'm going to be," Sookie told her. "I don't know what the future holds, but I know that future isn't here. I got what I wished, a life without Supes, and you know what? It wasn't what I wanted after all. Fact is, I had everything I wanted and I threw it away with both hands."

"What are you talking about?" Amelia asked.

"Well," Sookie sighed, "It's like this." She told Amelia about the past month. She told her about Sam and how the quiet that followed Eric's departure had allowed her to realize what was important. "One of the things I finally figured out is that Eric Northman was the love of my life, and now that door's nailed shut forever for me."

"Oh, Sookie!" Amelia cried. "Are you sure? After all…"

"What, Amelia? He's a vampire? Well, I guess that joke's on me, because he's married now and I'll be long dead by the time he's free." Sookie took a deep breath, "It's worse than his being finally dead, because I know he's still out there somewhere, but you know how this is. Two hundred years! So, I have a choice. I can sit here and wallow in regret, or I can do something to try and make another life."

"Do you think that moving is going to fix this?" Amelia asked. "I've tried to run from heartbreak, and let me tell you, it doesn't work!" Sookie figured Amelia was talking about Tray. Tray was a Were and he and Amelia were close. At first, Sookie hadn't thought he was anything more to Amelia than the other men and women who seemed to drift through her life, but when he was killed, Amelia mourned him.

"I have a good motivator," Sookie said, and she told her friend about her pregnancy. "So, you see, I can't be selfish about this. I'm responsible for someone else now. I've got to make this right for both of us."

"Sam's?" Amelia asked, and when Sookie didn't answer right away, Amelia said, "Are you sure you aren't just reacting to this news? Maybe you're just panicking and that's making you think Sam is the wrong choice."

"I knew Sam was a mistake before I knew about this," Sookie felt a great calm. "I knew that this box I built for myself was something I'd have to walk away from. I finally figured out where my heart laid. When this surprise came along, it was like the icing on the cake for me. New start, new family, new reason to try. I can't explain it, but this baby feels like a gift."

"It won't feel like a gift if Sam sues for parental rights," Amelia said sharply.

"Which is why I'm not telling him right away," Sookie said. "It's not that I'm going to hide it forever, but I know Sam. He can't go without someone in his life for long. He'll find someone and he'll get all wrapped up in them. Then, when I call him, he won't be so quick to want to throw a wrench in his new plans."

"That's a terrible thing to say!" Amelia exclaimed.

"I've known Sam for a long time," Sookie told her, "and when he realizes I'm not asking him for anything, he'll let it go."

"Well," Amelia said after a minute, "Why don't you call Fran? Let me know how it goes, and if you really don't like her, I can figure out something else."

"Thank you," Sookie said. "You didn't really have any reason to help me, but you are, and I'm most grateful."

"Don't be silly," Amelia replied. "You helped me when I needed it. This is the least I can do."

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Sookie worked the list she'd written down on her yellow pad of paper.

First, she called Sam and told him she quit. Sookie had looked back over all her bills and her savings, and knew she had more than enough to live for months if she was careful. The thought of walking back into Merlotte's and seeing his face was too much.

"So, that's the way it's going to be, Cher?" he said, and Sookie could hear the edge of anger in his voice.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," she replied. "We were friends. I know you wanted more, but I just can't, Sam. I think you can see that."

"You're still a partner here," Sam told her, as if she could forget.

"We'll figure that out," Sookie told him, "but I don't want to work there anymore."

When she drew the thick line through the item on the list, she felt as if a small chain holding her down was broken. It felt wonderful.

Looking at the next item on the list, she stood and walked to the kitchen drawer where she'd thrown the business card Mr. Cataliades left her.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

"I am relieved you called me." Mr. Cataliades was dressed formally, a vest buttoned over his ample belly and his fingernails newly manicured. "After our last parting, I was afraid you would remain angry with me. Not seeing you again would have made me sorry indeed."

"I still don't know how I feel about everything," Sookie answered honestly as she brought his cup of sweet tea to the table.

"But, whatever it is that you have to ask me is important enough that you are willing to set that aside," and the attorney accepted the tea and settled back again.

"Guess that's true enough," Sookie agreed. "I want to leave here, cut ties. I want a fresh start, but I need to know if the protection from vampires extends beyond Louisiana."

Mr. Cataliades didn't bother hiding his surprise, "Usually women in your condition are looking to settle in."

"Nothing much gets past you, does it?" Sookie grinned.

"You smell differently," the demon shrugged.

"Eww!" Sookie couldn't help lifting her arm and sniffing. "That's not very reassuring."

"I assure you," Mr. Cataliades said gently, "it is a very appealing odor. Then again, I assume the child you carry is Mr. Merlotte's…."

"Guess my bed arrangements are pretty common knowledge," Sookie sighed.

"When I left, you were showing a clear preference. I assumed things would progress along their natural path," Mr. Cataliades confirmed.

"Well, there's been a change of plans," Sookie sniffed and then drew herself taller in her chair. "I don't want to stay here and I don't want to stay with Sam Merlotte. I'm heading for a new start, and I want to leave before anyone else sniffs me out." Sookie was happy she hadn't gone to the diner to quit in person. If the attorney could smell the pregnancy, there was the possibility that Sam would, too.

"So then you are looking to leave soon…" and the attorney raised one eyebrow.

"Within the week if I can arrange it," Sookie nodded.

"What do you intend to do with the house?" Mr. Cataliades asked. "Do you need it shut down until you return?"

"That's the thing," Sookie said and she felt her conviction. "I'm not planning on ever returning here. I've decided to sell the house."

"Oh…" and Mr. Cataliades cocked his head to the side.

"What?" Sookie could tell there was something.

"This land has been in your family for generations," the attorney said reasonably.

Sookie's eyes narrowed, "Which family?" Sookie had found out that she was part Fae. Her Grandmother was human, but her real Grandfather was a son of Fae royalty and a great friend to Mr. Cataliades. When the attorney didn't answer, Sookie said, "I want to sell it all. I think I'll be needing the money, even if it's for a college fund." She looked around the kitchen, "I'm sure you see my Grandfather when you look around here, but all I see is heartache."

Mr. Cataliades pursed his lips, "If you would be agreeable, I could handle the sale for you. I can assure you the buyer will pay top dollar. Everything can be handled discretely."

Sookie figured whoever the attorney had in mind was probably supernatural. "My brother, Jason, will likely be put out when I sell," she warned.

"My recollection of the terms of your Grandmother's will left this house entirely to you," the attorney replied.

"I didn't know you read my Gran's will," Sookie's eyes narrowed.

"I have always taken a great interest in you," Mr. Cataliades replied smoothly. He sipped the tea and smiled when Sookie got up and returned to the table with a plate of cookies. "I am sorry for your loss," he said after a few minutes. Sookie almost asked him what he was saying, but as soon as her eyes met his, she knew. He rarely made a show of it, but Mr. Cataliades could read Sookie's mind, and had.

"It's too late for me," she shrugged. "I know it's foolish, but…" and she looked at her hands, her misery suddenly welling up, "but I kind of hope that if I live a real good life, maybe I'll come back and next time I won't screw everything up."

"There is a saying that for every door that closes," the attorney leaned forward, and Sookie could see he cared.

"When I was a little girl," Sookie smiled even though tears started to spill over her eyes, "I remember reading 'Eight Cousins.' I loved it so much more than 'Little Women,' although Gran said it was sentimental hogwash."

"I remember the book," the attorney nodded. "Louisa Alcott certainly appealed to young girls."

"There was a character in the book, the heroine's Aunt Peace. I remember they talked about how her sweetheart had died at sea and how Peace was good and kind, but always kind of waiting after that. I think that'll be me, kind of waiting for when I can finally join him."

The attorney leaned forward, his face serious, "Sookie, you are a young woman. You will have a family and a new life. You are too young to put yourself on a shelf, pining for something you will never have."

"I'm just being silly," Sookie leaned back, tucking her feelings away. "I've made you uncomfortable, and that wasn't what I meant to do." She picked up the attorney's glass and refreshed his drink. Setting it back in front of him, she smiled, "I'm sure you're right. It's all just fresh right now."

Sookie sat back down and when she looked at the attorney she could see he didn't believe her, which was fine because she didn't believe it either. Looking away, the attorney said, "I am pleased that I can be of service to you again. It will be my pleasure to handle these transactions for you. If I may ask, where do you intend to go?"

"I'm not sure," Sookie said, happy they were on less dangerous ground. "I have a lead on someplace in Boston."

"A lovely city," the attorney nodded, "and very friendly toward the supernatural, despite their history." The attorney tapped his business card, "You have my numbers, including my personal number. Please never hesitate to contact me at any time. I hope you know that I consider myself your friend."

"Thanks, Desmond," Sookie smiled and, reaching across the table, squeezed his clasped hands with one of her own.

The attorney rose and headed toward the door, then stopped. "I wonder if you have thought about taking some precautions to not be recognized." When Sookie made clear she wasn't sure what he meant, Mr. Cataliades explained. "Stackhouse is a recognizable name. Any vampire who has met you will recognize you by sight, but for the supernaturals who haven't met you, your name is unique. They associate Stackhouse with Rhodes."

"What would you suggest?" Sookie asked.

"I could change your name. Sookie Stackhouse would still be your legal name, but you would have a working title of sorts. You would have paperwork that would allow you to get identification, including a driver's license in your alter ego. Passports and taxes would still need to be in your legal name, but most people on the street would never see either of those."

"You can do that?" Sookie was surprised, but she could see the possibilities.

"Of course. Do you have any ideas? You don't have to choose right away, but it would be best if it was arranged before you left. That way, wherever you land, you would be able to use your new name when you arrived."

"Susan Hale," Sookie said with almost no hesitation.

"Hale was your Grandmother's maiden name," the attorney nodded.

"And Susan is pretty close to Sookie. When I was little, I wished my name was Susan, so I'll be able to get used to it."

"I'll start right away," the attorney bowed a little formally. When he straightened, he took Sookie's hand in his and ran his thumb over the back. "I'll check the terms of your protection order, but I suspect its formal protection won't extend beyond Felipe de Castro's territories. Of course, I will call you as soon as I confirm everything." He looked up into Sookie's face, "I am very sorry for everything that's happened. If it's any consolation, I don't think there's anything you could have done that would have made a difference in terms of Mr. Northman's situation. I reviewed the contract at his request. It would have taken Freyda's final death to set it aside."

Sookie gritted her teeth, "I don't get it!" she exclaimed. "He didn't sign it! He didn't agree to it! He's a free man, like anyone else."

"He was once his Maker was finally dead," Mr. Cataliades tried to explain. "But under vampire law, Mr. Northman was not free as long as Appius Livius Ocella existed. His Maker was within his rights to bind the Viking and that obligation did not end with his true death. It was a cleverly crafted piece of work. I believe Appius knew he wasn't long for this world and he meant to be sure of his child's future."

"A future that didn't include me," Sookie felt a lump form in her throat.

"He would have considered you as beneath his progeny," the attorney said. Sookie knew Mr. Cataliades didn't say it to be cruel, but it stung all the same.

"Well, I guess he won in the end," Sookie smiled sadly.

"There's no reason you can't, too," the attorney assured her, and bowing, he left her standing on her porch. Along the tree line, Sookie saw the pale flutter that was Karin. She wondered if the vampire would catch on to what was happening, and Sookie resolved that when she did leave, it would be during broad daylight.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

"I understand you want to leave your home, and you're in a hurry. Do I have to worry about someone chasing you?" The voice on the other end of the line sounded like an older woman.

"No, ma'am," Sookie told her. "There won't be anyone chasing me. I'm not in any trouble. I'm just a woman who needs a fresh start in life."

"Amelia tells me you're not a charity case." It was a statement, but it still sounded like a question.

"If you're asking, I can afford to pay rent and my share of things. Amelia tells me you need someone to run errands and do some cooking, and I'm happy to do all those things. I do intend to get a job…"and Sookie let the statement dangle.

"I heard what you did in Rhodes," Fran replied. "It was a brave act. You have a good reputation, but if you have trouble chasing you, I can't have you here."

"No, no trouble," Sookie repeated. "Fact is, there's a contract that's supposed to make sure I don't have to worry about any vampire interference for the rest of my natural life. I'll be honest, I'm not sure how far that will carry if I leave Louisiana, but I have an attorney who is checking it out."

"So, if it isn't you running away from trouble, why pick up from your family home and move north? Don't insult my intelligence by saying this was some kind of plan. Amelia tells me you are looking to leave right away and that sounds like you're in a hurry," and Fran waited.

"I am in a hurry," Sookie acknowledged, "but it isn't because of the kind of trouble you're thinking. It's more every day, human needs to start over again trouble."

"Living with regret is a terrible thing," Fran said in the silence that followed and Sookie wondered how much Amelia had told this woman.

"I'm looking for a place where I can build a new home and put this whole sorry mess behind me," Sookie sniffed. "I'm looking for a new start for me and my baby."

"Amelia told me you were expecting, but she said you're pretty early on," confirming that, as usual, Amelia had no discretion when it came to Sookie's secrets.

"That's true," Sookie acknowledged. "So I have time to get things settled and find a place before I become a package deal."

"Is there a father?" Fran asked.

"He's not the man I love," Sookie replied, "and I can't see getting married just because I'm pregnant."

"There are other options," Fran replied.

"Not for me," Sookie told her. "I've thought about that, I really have. I can't explain it, but I want this baby. I want a family, and this seems like a sign."

Sookie could hear the woman on the other end of the line sigh, "Family," she said. "You sound like a woman who understands loss. I'll tell you what, if you want to try, I'll give you two months. You have to agree that if we don't suit each other, you'll find another place."

"I can live with that," Sookie agreed.

"And I'm wiping Amelia Broadway's memory," the woman continued. "She will tell your tale to anyone who buys her a drink. She means well, but she can't be trusted with a secret, and you sound too much like a secret."

She wasn't sure what to think, but she didn't protest. When she hung up the phone, Sookie looked out at the moon peeking through the clouds. "It's starting!" she said out loud, and she was sure that whatever it was, it would be good.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Beckoning Turn

**Chapter 3 – The Beckoning Turn**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Sookie took her time, not because she was enjoying the drive from Bon Temps to Boston, but because when she reached Tennessee, her car started wheezing and knocking. It wasn't all the time, but it became more frequent as the miles slipped by. "Don't die on me!" she chanted over and over each time it happened.

She made no hotel reservations, relying on Google Maps to locate inexpensive motels along the way. After the first night, Sookie developed her own rating system for the places she chose. The motel had to have a name she recognized. There had to be a desk person who spoke English. If they offered to rent her towels, it was a 'no go.' After the second night, she decided the place also needed to offer breakfast in the morning, just to make sure she wouldn't spend another night listening to slamming doors and the sound of the mattress banging against the wall next door.

The traffic as she approached Boston wasn't a surprise. Sookie had been in and out of cities before. What she didn't expect was that the bumper to bumper traffic was still traveling over sixty miles an hour. Sookie found herself white-knuckled and shivering in the far right lane, cars honking at her and cutting her off with inches to spare. The sounds of the drivers' minds started to overwhelm her before she gripped the wheel, took a deep breath, and deliberately turned off the noise in her head. Once the internal shouting stopped, Sookie found she was able to better focus on trying to keep up with everyone.

The voice on Google Maps guided her through a number of turns and cut-offs. The closer she got, the more time she seemed to spend in dark tunnels traveling under the city streets. When she turned up the ramp that promised to take her to her destination, she emerged into sunshine and a surprising number of trees. The traffic here was less frantic and the streets seemed wider. Sookie almost sighed with relief.

As she waited for a light, Sookie pulled out the printed sheet of paper with the directions Fran Miller emailed her. They were more specific, describing landmarks like, "Watch for the sculpture that looks like a clock tower,' and 'Count the houses. The turn looks like a driveway.' Still, it was another tension-filled thirty minutes before Sookie found herself in the narrow alley where she parked in front of a double-garage door with 'No Stopping' stenciled across it in faded, grey letters. Sookie got out and found the keypad just under a plastic flap. She touched in the code and the door made a cracking sound before it jerked and started to lift.

Sookie had to back up and straighten out a couple times before she was able to nose her car in next to the Prius. Technically it was a two-car garage, but the areas along the walls were lined with yard equipment and garden tools. There were pegs on the walls, some with outlines, but it looked like most things never found their way back to their homes, choosing to grow into the car space instead.

Sookie held the car door tightly as she slid out of the driver's side. The Prius was close and she didn't think dinging her landlady's door would make a good first impression. She almost made it to the door that led through the front of the garage when the wave of dizziness and nausea kicked in. "Oh, shit!" she exclaimed. Sookie ran back through the open garage and into the alleyway, managing to make it all the way out before she leaned over, her hands braced against the brick wall, and let loose on the cobbles. It didn't take long. It never did, but she rested her forehead against her arms, giving it a minute just to be sure.

The cobbles weren't like the grass along the highway, and Sookie realized she'd splashed on her shoes and pants. "Shit!" she exclaimed again. "Shit, shit…" while she opened her trunk, pulled out her suitcase and side-walked back down the narrow path through the garage that promised to lead to the house.

There was a pushbutton this side of the door, and Sookie smacked it, causing the garage door to start rumbling back down. As she walked out of the garage, she found herself in a strange, overgrown garden space. The yard was pretty big, and longer than it was wide. The houses on both sides had put up tall walls, giving the impression of total privacy here. There was bamboo growing along one wall and a tree that was just starting to turn color along another. From somewhere in the bushes to her left, she heard the soft sound of running water, and there was an assortment of mismatched outdoor furniture on a grassy, brick patio. As Sookie walked toward the back of the house, her suitcase banging against her leg, she caught flashes of mirrors mounted on the walls and trees.

The house rose above her. There were windows on at least three floors and what looked like a deck toward the top. The bottom floor was almost a solid wall of glass with doors that opened to the outside. Sookie could see a woman moving around inside and as she got closer, recognized this room was a kitchen.

As she raised her hand to knock, the woman turned and saw her. She grabbed a towel and bustled over, opening the door, "You must be Sookie! I'm…"

"Fran?" Sookie asked.

"No, I'm Lora, Fran's friend. I come here a couple days a week to help out with cooking and cleaning." She reached over and took the suitcase from Sookie's hand, drawing Sookie inside. "So, you found it! Why don't you come in and I'll let Fran…"

"Let Fran what?" Sookie turned to see a short, gray-haired woman walk into the kitchen.

"Let Fran know her new roommate is here," Lora finished. Lora narrowed her eyes at Fran as if to say, 'Behave!' then turned and winked at Sookie. "Why don't you," and she looked pointedly at Fran, "sit down, since you have clearly been traipsing up and down stairs where you have no business being, and I'll get you both some tea."

Sookie swallowed and said, "I don't mean to be any bother, but you suppose I could use a bathroom and get cleaned up a little before we sit down?"

Fran was looking the telepath up and down through narrowed eyes. "When's the last time you took a shower?" she asked. Lora made a sound, but Fran didn't appear to notice. "You smell like you slept in a drunk tank."

Sookie flailed a little. Her upbringing was telling her to be nice and try to be polite, but she was tired and sick and her bladder was screaming. "Well, if you mean I smell like puke, you'd be right. I was sick and right out there in your back alley. I'd like to change and rinse out my mouth, and then I can take a bucket and wash off the street, so I don't piss off your neighbors!" she snapped.

Fran's eyes widened, her mouth turned down, and then, unexpectedly, she laughed. "So, you have spunk! Good!"

The older woman moved toward the table and then jerked her chin at Lora. It must have meant something because Lora smiled and said, "Come on, Sookie, I'll show you where you'll be staying."

Sookie followed Lora up two flights of stairs. They were old-fashioned, dark wood and they turned halfway at each landing. Sookie saw a glowing wood entry and a stained glass panel as they passed the front door and continued up. "You'll be here on the second floor," Lora told her.

"I figured this would be the third floor," Sookie said, her eyes everywhere.

"We don't count the first floor, the one you came in on. We call that the ground floor, but just so you know, there's a basement below that."

"This place is huge," Sookie followed Lora as she dropped the suitcase in a large bedroom and then opened a door to a bathroom with a clawed tub. Everything was clean, but there was a comfortable shabbiness that reminded Sookie of her Gran's house.

"Fran and her partner, Clare, bought it in the late seventies," Lora told her. "It was a different neighborhood then, mostly street people and hippies. You couldn't walk out the front door after dark. Now, you can't touch a floor in any of these places for less than a half a mil."

"Good grief!" Sookie exclaimed. "I didn't know I was moving into a mansion!"

"You're not," Lora laughed. "Fran has money, but she's stingy as the day is long. She comes from old money, and so did Clare, so don't be worried she'll be eating cat food any time soon, no matter how much she grouses, but," and Lora looked at the faded curtains and softly fraying bedspread, "don't expect it to show up in the way of extras. You'll figure out that Fran is anti-capitalism. I could say it's her being a New England Yankee, but it's more than that. She just doesn't believe in wasting anything."

"Amelia told me Fran lost her partner," Sookie didn't want to pry but she figured it made sense to know the lay of the land.

Lora nodded, "Ten years ago. Cancer. It was long and ugly. Fran never really recovered." Lora smiled brightly, "But believe me, you'll be hearing all the stories. Why don't you take a nice shower and get changed. When you're ready, come on down and I'll fix you something to eat. Oh," and Lora's eyes softened, "don't worry about out back. A street sweeper washes down the alley every morning. Boston is a civilized place."

When Lora left, Sookie opened her suitcase. She pulled out a sundress and a pair of sneakers. The window rattled just a bit with a passing breeze and Sookie pulled out a sweater, too. It was only September, but the weather here felt a lot colder than home.

Walking into the bathroom, Sookie stripped and used the sink to clean up her shoes and scrub her pant legs. She wondered about laundry and figured that there would have to be a laundromat somewhere close by, after all, it was a city.

It took a while for the hot water to get started, but once it did, it got real hot, and Sookie had to play with the knobs for a bit to get it cool enough to step under the large shower head. There was soap and some travel-sized shampoo and conditioner bottles on the little shelf suspended from the shower head, and Sookie gratefully washed the grime and sweat of traffic and travel from her. When she stepped over the edge of the tub onto the mat, she found the bath towel was something someone had spent money on. It was thick and long, and Sookie was able to wrap it all the way around with room to spare.

Padding back into the bedroom, she sat on the bed, bouncing a little, and then lay down full length, testing the mattress. The feel of it and the way the pillow sank under her head were like heaven, and Sookie suddenly felt every bit of her exhaustion. She had to claw her way back to vertical, forcing herself to stand up and get dressed. ' _Time for sleep later_ ,' she scolded herself.

The staircase took her back to the ground floor, and, as promised, there was a sandwich and a glass of water waiting for her. Lora was standing near the stove and Fran Miller was outside, leaning over some plants in the back. "Hi," Sookie said shyly.

Lora turned, "Well, hi back. Why don't you sit down and try out my chicken salad? You're not vegetarian, are you?"

"No," Sookie shook her head. "No, I'm not."

"Good," Lora smiled. "Fran says she is, but she'll never turn down a steak. Makes things easier for me."

"I don't expect you to cook for me," Sookie said, "although I thank you for this."

"You'll be doing me a favor," Lora shrugged. "Fran eats like a bird and it galls her to have to throw anything away. It's impossible to cook for one, so you'll just be saving me from all her bitching."

Sookie wasn't sure what to say, so she murmured, "Thanks," before picking up the sandwich and starting to eat. After a bit, she glanced at Fran again, "So, is she gardening?"

Lora laughed, "Yeah, sure. She's picking her weed. She smokes pot, says it helps her arthritis." When Sookie blushed, Lora said, "It's not exactly legal here, and she doesn't have a prescription, but no one is going to mess with her. I wouldn't mention it around."

"I never would!" Sookie swallowed.

Fran chose that moment to walk in through the doors, "Nice of you to join us," she said sharply, then grabbed Sookie's face and turned it, first one way and then another. "You look like shit," she said, making Sookie blush again. "You getting any sleep?"

"I am," Sookie said quietly. "I'm just tired all the time."

"Pregnancy!" Fran growled, and then sitting, said, "How far along did you say you were?"

"I'm figuring about a month or so," Sookie chewed her lip a little.

"You haven't been to the doctor yet?" Fran's look was like a laser and Sookie started to feel more bullied than she liked.

"No, I haven't," she said a little more forcefully than was polite, "and I don't have health insurance, so I guess I'm going to have to figure that out, too!"

Fran chuckled, "Well, it seems you came to the right place," and the hard woman was replaced by a kinder woman whose face transformed into a delicate network of lines and comfort. "I've been a big supporter of Planned Parenthood and the free clinic is still operating." She turned to Lora, "Can you call Rae down there and make our Miss Stackhouse an appointment? 

Remembering, Sookie said, "About that. I know I told you I don't have anyone chasing me, but I think it would be smart for me to take some precautions. You know who I am," and she glanced at Lora, "and you do, too." Lora nodded. "But I have some papers upstairs my lawyer set up for me. I'm going to go by the name of Susan Hale. Hale is my Grandmother's name and it won't stand out the way Stackhouse would."

"Sounds like a sensible precaution if you're looking to keep a low profile," Lora said, and she gave Fran a pointed look as if daring her to say otherwise.

"My memory is shot anyway," Fran shrugged. "Who knows what damn name I'll call you? Probably the name of every cat I ever had." She shook her head, "Doesn't make no never mind to me."

"You know your mind is sharper now than it ever was!" Lora scolded Fran. She picked up the phone, "Sookie, I mean, Susan, do you have anything set up yet, appointments or meetings I should work around?"

"Here?" Sookie was starting to feel her eyes becoming heavier. "No, nothing yet," and then she turned quickly toward Fran, "but I intend to be out first thing to find a job." 

Fran laughed, "I think you can wait a couple days. Besides, I need some help organizing my library on the floor above you." She turned back to Lora, "Go ahead and get that appointment made. The sooner she's checked out, the easier I'll feel." Turning to Sookie, she said, "Why don't you head upstairs and start to put your things away? Take a nap. We'll call you down for dinner."

"Oh, I'm not that tired," Sookie squared her shoulders.

Fran narrowed her eyes and her lips pursed, "Anyone ever tell you you're a terrible liar?"

"Yes," Sookie admitted with a sigh, "all the time."

 **xxxXXXxxx**

The next morning, Sookie slept longer than she ever remembered. Her eyes were heavy, but she felt plenty lively when she sat up and her stomach heaved. It almost didn't bother her anymore, the morning sickness, just another fact in her new life. It never lasted long, just part of the routine. Open eyes. Stretch. Sit up. Run for the toilet. Take care of other human needs. Brush teeth. One more new pattern for the new person who was Susan Hale.

Fran was waiting downstairs in the kitchen, the air carrying the slight smell of pot. "Nice to see you up," the older woman's voice was calm and Sookie thought she looked a little out of it.

"Nice to be seen," Sookie replied and headed to where the coffee pot sat on the counter.

As she opened the Mason jar full of ground coffee, Fran asked, "You sure you should be drinking that stuff? Most doctors…"

Sookie turned from the counter, her hands on her hips, "You sure you should be smoking that stuff? Most police officers…" and she left it hanging.

Fran's eyes narrowed again, but when Sookie's mouth stayed smiling under arched eyebrows, the older woman sat back, "Touché. Okay, I won't criticize your habits and you won't criticize mine."

When she finished filling the machine, Sookie pushed the button and asked, "You had breakfast? Can I make you anything?" The house was quiet around them, so Sookie figured this must be one of Lora's days off.

"No, I'm fine," Fran waved. "But make yourself something. There's a pantry back there," and she pointed at a door on the back wall, "and plenty of eggs and things in the refrigerator."

Sookie looked at the pans and then said, "I'll be right back!" She walked through the backyard and into the garage. She grabbed her Gran's big skillet and the book she'd been reading, and headed back into the kitchen. Setting the skillet on the stove, she found bowls and utensils, and in no time had pancake batter whipped up. There were bananas on the counter that could be cut into the pancakes and real maple syrup, too. Sookie's stomach felt wrung out, it was so empty, so she whipped up some eggs as well.

When the feast was cooking, Sookie turned and asked Fran, "You sure? I know I cooked bigger than I can eat and pancakes never taste good reheated." Sookie hadn't smoked pot, but she watched TV and figured if any of it was true, her landlady would be hungry.

"You'll pay for your food," Fran said sharply, but then her stomach growled. Sookie set a plate heaped with pancakes and eggs in front of her landlady and then loaded another plate for herself. She brought silverware to the table and poured water for both of them, then a mug of coffee for herself.

"Well!" Sookie grinned as she sat, looking at the steaming food, "Guess tomorrow is another day!"

"Don't tell me you like Scarlett O'Hara!" Fran sniped, cutting into her pancakes with her fork.

"I do," Sookie wasn't sure she liked Fran's tone in talking about her hero. "She was one determined Southern woman, a real steel magnolia."

"She was a bitch who manipulated everyone to get what she wanted. She stooped to using her sex," Fran said, not looking up.

"Well, I don't know she had much choice!" Sookie squared her jaw, and the two of them launched into a conversation that carried through breakfast and right up the stairs. Fran waved Sookie off twice when the younger woman attempted to help her, but finally gave in as they passed Sookie's floor. It didn't stop their debate.

"And she was a fool!" Fran growled. "She found the love of her life, the strong man who was more than her match, and she threw him away with both hands for a man who could only have made her miserable."

"Guess I hadn't thought of that," Sookie said quietly and she saw all too clearly the parallels with her own life. "You know, I always hoped that somehow they would work things out."

If Fran noticed the changed in her companion, she didn't give any sign. "Life doesn't work that way," she said shortly as she limped to the large, circular table that sat in the center of a slightly, rounded room lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. There were beautiful chairs with ornate backs and thick seat cushions placed around the table, ' _Cherry_ ,' Sookie thought in passing.

"No, I guess it doesn't," Sookie replied, feeling her backbone drain away, leaving her sad and fragile. She could feel her lip tremble and she turned to walk briskly toward the farthest bookshelf, so she could get a handle on her emotions. The titles of the books caught her eye and she felt her sorrow recede, replaced by an appreciation of what was in front of her. "These Jane Austen books look real old."

"Most are first editions," Fran nodded. "The Bronte's as well. Some were my family's, and some are gifts from former students who know how I feel about female writers."

"Wow," Sookie whistled, "You must have some pretty rich students!"

Fran's lips thinned, "I think it is more polite to refer to them as admirers with means, don't you?" and Sookie blushed, feeling as if she'd been caught out picking her teeth. "So, are you up to earning some part of your keep?" Fran asked.

They spent the next hour with Sookie picking up books and putting them away. Fran had a system that wasn't clear at first, but made more sense as Sookie kept working. Fran preferred to have things sorted by time period, then general topic, and then alphabetically by author. She had cards in an old-fashioned library card cabinet with summaries and the general location of the book written out in a firm, clear hand. Fran was on some sort of mailing list because she received books several times a month, but since she was having trouble getting up the stairs to this room on her own, there was a stack of books waiting their turn to be catalogued and then placed in their permanent homes.

Sookie found as she moved along the shelves, running hands across the bindings of old familiar friends, and noticing new books that sounded interesting, she became happier. "I'm not surprised you're a book person," Fran said. When Sookie looked at her in surprise, the older woman explained, "You're a telepath. It was probably easier experiencing the world through the safety of a book."

Sookie nodded, "You're right. Some of my happiest hours were spent on my Gran's porch, reading."

"Can you read me?" Fran asked.

Sookie had tried earlier, and now she tried again. All she got was that high-pitched noise she associated with strong witches. "No, I can't read folks like you."

"What do you mean by that?" Fran's head tilted to the side.

"You're a witch," Sookie explained, "a powerful one. I can read Amelia and Holly, another witch I know from home, but you? You're nothing but a buzz of energy."

"Good!" Fran looked pleased. "That keeps us on equal footing."

When Sookie and Fran made their way downstairs for lunch, Sookie said, "I should probably find someone to take a look at my car."

"Why?" Fran asked sharply. "You planning on going somewhere?"

"Well, I should spend a little time looking for that job, and I have to get a new driver's license. It will be easier to fill out paperwork when I have my new name all set up."

"Well, you aren't a slacker," Fran conceded, "but you don't need to drive to take care of establishing your new identity. The DMV is just a few stops down on the MTA."

"MTA?" Sookie asked.

"We're on the Orange Line," Fran told her, "the subway. There's buses, too, but riding the 'T' is much easier. No one who's anyone drives in the city if they can help it. The public transportation here is among the best in the world." The way the older woman said it, Sookie could tell she had a true pride of place. Amelia had told her she'd see it here, folks who felt that there was Boston, and then everywhere else, and in that order.

"Truth is, I've never ridden a subway," Sookie blushed. "I'm not sure I'd even know where to start."

"Well, I will speak with Lora and we'll take care of that right away," Fran said matter-of-fact. "If you are going to live in this City, you need to fit in and using transit is key." Fran reached over for a small pad of paper and wrote a note. "What about winter clothes? You have any of those?" and she eyed Sookie's sundress.

By the time they finished lunch, Fran had a list of things that needed to get sorted out about Sookie. They had the leftover chicken salad from yesterday and when Sookie got up to clean the dishes, Fran asked if she would mind running up to the landlady's bedroom to retrieve her cell phone.

Fran slept on the same level as the front door. Her bedroom has once been a front parlor and the walls sloped around like those in the library above her, forming a loose circle. Fran's bed looked like something from another era. Sookie had a hard time reconciling the romance of the carvings and embellishments with the tart, stringy woman downstairs. The walls were painted in colors Sookie associated with the ocean and the high ceilings were bordered by carved crown moldings painted glossy white. The room shouted, 'Refuge,' and Sookie felt she could settle in a room like this and stay forever.

Fran's look was speculative when Sookie returned. "Like what you saw?"

"I did," Sookie replied. "It's a beautiful space."

"I don't use my skills, my witchcraft, often. Frankly, I think it's a dodge. People should handle life head on and take responsibility for the outcomes. Still, carrying around the power means I need a place where I feel completely at rest from time to time."

"Folks pay witches a fair price for what they can do where I come from," Sookie didn't know why she felt the need to defend the witches she knew to this woman.

"The craft is not about money, and shouldn't be," Fran scoffed. "This gift was passed to me through my ancestors, mother to daughter. It's not some commodity that I pull off the shelf and sell piecemeal to the highest bidder."

"I guess you don't think much of my charging folks to use my telepathy then," Sookie sniffed.

"I think you know the answer to that," Fran arched an eyebrow. "So, why don't you tell me what Sookie Stackhouse, or should I call you Susan Hale, can do, aside from her magic tricks?"

"I'm a waitress," Sookie said gamely, "a good one."

"I'd imagine you'd do well in any service industry," Fran started working on her phone. Sookie could see that the woman's fingers hurt her, and she itched to take the phone away from her and punch in the numbers and keys on her behalf. If she sensed Sookie's impatience, the older woman gave no sign, "You probably know what people want before they do. You just reach into their heads and find it."

"It's true," Sookie nodded. "Well, except witches and vampires. I can't read either one of you too well. And Weres, sometimes. Their thoughts feel red and snarly, but if I focus, I can usually figure them out."

"Very handy," Fran pushed the phone and held it to her ear. "Must make you feel very superior to the people around you," and before Sookie could protest, Fran started talking.

The days that followed were a whirl of activity. Sookie learned how to ride the T, and she filed and picked up new identification. Her Massachusetts driver's license showed her thinner face next to her new name.

About a week after she arrived, an older woman came over and spent the better part of an afternoon looking at Sookie's car. When she came in, she told Fran and Sookie that it would cost more to repair than it was worth.

"I'm surprised you made it here," the woman told them over cups of tea in the kitchen. "It needs a new engine. There's a crack in the block and I can't imagine you had much power going up hills." For some reason, the woman's words reminded Sookie of all the times Eric scolded her about her car. He'd offered to buy her a new one more times than she could count, and the memory of his face had her running from the kitchen to hide her tears.

When she came back, the woman was gone. "Hormones," Sookie said weakly by way of apology.

"Broken heart," Fran replied. "Can't bullshit a bullshitter, Susan, and I recognize all the signs."

"How do you get by?" Sookie asked her.

"One day at a time," Fran smiled. "It's been years for me. There are days I don't think about her hardly at all, but then there are some days when I'll see something, or the sun will shine a particular way, and all I know is I'd give everything to be able to share it with her again."

Sookie sighed, dashing away the tears that just wouldn't stop, "I think that will be me," she told Fran. "But for me, it's the regret. Mr. Cataliades, he's my attorney, he said there was really nothing I could have done that would have changed anything, but I know that's not exactly right. Even if we had to be parted in the end, I could have made such better use of our time together," and Sookie felt ashamed as she broke, sobbing helplessly in front of this person she barely knew.

Fran got up and hobbled back with a cup of water and a damp cloth. When Sookie collected herself, the landlady gripped her hand hard, so hard it hurt. "You go ahead and cry now," Fran told her when Sookie's eyes widened. There was nothing soft about the woman as she spoke, "But the fact is you can't be selfish about this. Me? I'm selfish, but I don't have anyone depending on me. I can afford to bury myself in my memories; I'm old and rich. You can't. You've made at least one decision that is going to force you to stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Sookie laid her hand on her stomach, "A baby."

"That's your top priority now, Toots. A child is a lifelong commitment. Now, I'll grant you that one day that little one will grow up and you'll be able to reclaim your life, and if you want to crawl back in your misery, you'll be entitled." Fran lowered her brows, "But, for now, you need to pull your head out of your ass, decide when you'll stop mourning, and start doing what needs to be done to make sure that when your little one arrives she has the mother she deserves."

When Sookie looked skeptical, Fran shrugged, "Or decide to terminate it. No woman worth her salt should go halfway on something like this. You're a mother or you're not. Make up your mind," and Fran released Sookie's hand and walked away, leaving the telepath alone in the slowly darkening kitchen.

 **XxxXXXxxx**

One evening near Hallowe'en, snow blew through the city. It drifted down from the sky, landing in small, sugary balls that sat on Sookie's mittened hand, perfectly round until they melted. Sookie was walking the few short blocks to The Bailey, the restaurant where she now worked. Looking up into the night sky, Sookie felt excited by the changing seasons. She had seen snow once or twice in her life in Louisiana. People told her stories of snow drifts on the sidewalks and cold, biting wind, but that hardly seemed real as the feathery snow brushed past her.

Morning sickness had all but disappeared from her life and Sookie was feeling more energetic. Her work schedule still had her on late lunches and dinner, so she could sleep late. Fran knew Sean Bailey, the owner of the restaurant. Lora walked Sookie down the street to make the introduction, and Sookie was pretty sure the fix was in before the man had even met her. Sookie did her best to make sure Sean wouldn't doubt the wisdom of bowing to Fran's demands.

It didn't take long for Sookie to develop favorites. She could tell her southern accent was an attraction to some. To others, it was the way she paid close attention to them and anticipated their requests. The Bailey wasn't what you'd consider a top restaurant in Boston, but it wasn't inexpensive either. 'White tablecloth,' they called it. Sookie took time and effort to make sure her uniform was always pressed and spotless. Black slacks and a crisp white button-down shirt with a black apron that fell to her knees. Sookie had already replaced her shirts once as her chest expanded. Sean knew she was pregnant but, as her following grew, she could tell his anxiety about keeping her in the front of the restaurant eased.

It was an interesting crowd; there were business people and shoppers early and neighborhood people with the occasional spillover crowd from Symphony Hall at night. The menu was what Sean called Irish/French fusion and there was always a waiting list, even during the week.

On those nights Sookie was off, or the restaurant was closed, she worked on the library or did correspondence for Fran. It wasn't demanding work, and mostly it was the two of them trading stories. During the day Sookie ran errands. Sometimes it was groceries. Sometimes it was the post office. When Fran had guests, which wasn't often, Sookie helped Lora clean up and then made herself scarce.

Sookie also had a standing appointment with Rae at the Women's Health Clinic. Lora accompanied her the first time she went. Sookie was introduced as Susan and everything was moving along, but after blood was drawn, Rae came into the room with a worried look on her face. "You don't seem to have a blood type," she said, clearly puzzled.

"Oh, good grief!" Sookie exclaimed. "I forgot about that!"

"That's quite the thing to forget!" Lora's tone sounded as if she might be accusing Sookie of something, but then she placed her hand on Sookie's back, and said, "Well, of course you've been under a lot of stress."

Sookie turned to the nurse practitioner, "It's a family condition. I'm assuming it's genetic." Sookie wasn't thinking that telling this woman the genetics involved were of the fairy variety would help.

"Well," Rae looked tense, "I don't want to worry you, but if something were to happen, and you needed blood, we wouldn't be able to help you." Sookie could read the woman. She could 'hear' her real concern. Rae was wondering if she should protect the clinic by sending Sookie away, but, at the same time, she was struggling with the need to do the right thing by this pregnant mother who had a real problem.

"What if I were to donate my own blood now?" Sookie asked. "Would there be a way to store it, just in case?" Sookie had heard of this being done, but since in past she had access to vampires, it just hadn't seemed important.

"I don't like the idea of drawing blood while you're pregnant," Rae shook her head, "and I don't have any way to freeze and store your blood here."

"We have a friend who does medical research at Harvard. If we could draw a little at a time and arrange storage, would you be okay?" Although Sookie could 'hear' Rae still had doubts, she agreed and Lora said, "Let me see if she can do us a favor?"

Lora called Fran and not even ten minutes later, it was agreed Sookie (now Susan) would go to Harvard every other week to have blood drawn until they had three pints on standby. "You have good friends," Rae told Sookie.

' _Don't I know it_ ,' the telepath thought.

Time passed, and by March, Sookie had gone from thinking of herself as blooming to downright exploding. It was strange. If you looked at her from the back, Sookie really didn't look much different, just a little broader than before, but when she turned, all you saw was belly. The pressure on her back made carrying trays uncomfortable, and Fran and Sean had convinced her it was time to take a leave of absence. Sookie agreed, but marched right down the street and found a part-time job helping out the night desk for a boutique hotel, also within walking distance of Fran's home.

It was Sookie's last week at The Bailey, and she was holding her own when she walked up to her newest table and found herself face to face with Karin the Slaughterer.

Karin was just as surprised as she was, and didn't bother to hide her shock. "What are you doing here?" she hissed at the telepath.

"I work here," Sookie stammered, then glancing at the handsome human sitting across from Karin added, "although this is my last week."

"You're breeding," Karin's eyes remained wide, her nostrils distended.

"Well, you're a real quick study," Sookie snapped, her shock turning to irritation. Of all the places to run into any of Eric's progeny, this seemed so unlikely!

"How long will you be here?" Karin demanded.

"I'm gone after tonight," Sookie lied.

Karin's eyes narrowed, and Sookie could see she was recovering her balance. "Who else knows you're here?" she asked.

"The people I stay with," Sookie told her. She could see Sean watching her from across the room, so she purposely smiled in her professional way, and said, "We do have Royalty, if that would suit you, and has Monsieur selected a wine for this evening?"

"The Bon Temps people assume you were kidnapped," Karin persisted.

"I left a note, and Mr. Cataliades explained things to my brother. I told Sam I was leaving. I needed a new start, and here I am," and she turned to Karin's companion who was watching them with a kind of glassy fascination. "You glamoured him?" Sookie whispered.

"It makes things easier later," Karin shrugged. "He'll have the lamb and the Caesar salad, plenty of anchovies. I don't need blood. I'll have mine later." Sookie suspected the menu choices were purposeful.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't mention seeing me," Sookie kept her smile pasted on her face, hoping Sean wouldn't choose to investigate.

"Who would I tell?" Karin asked. "Technically, I'm still supposed to be guarding you. You running did me a favor. My agreement with my Maker prevents me from sharing this information, and there's no one of our mutual acquaintance who would be interested, so…" It hurt, hearing Karin talk like this, but Sookie supposed she meant it to.

Sookie took the order and assured Sean, who caught her on the way to the kitchen, that all was well. "An old friend," she told him, "Caught me by surprise."

When Sookie served the main course, Karin said, "You know, Boston is popular with my kind. It's only a matter of time before someone else spots you."

"I appreciate that," Sookie told her. "It has been months, though, and you're the first vampire I've seen, so maybe I'll do okay for a while longer." Sookie didn't want to tell Karin that she was reluctant to leave the City. She liked Fran and she liked the circle of friends she was forming. She liked Rae and the folks at the clinic, and she wanted to be here for her baby's birth.

Karin tilted her head, "This end of the city is off the beaten path. We don't come to this part often. It's too close to their sports center and drunken humans don't mix well with vampires. If I were you, I'd stay away from the financial district and Quincy Market. Those are prime hunting grounds. Oh, and the Clan Summit will be held here in January. There are many planning to attend. The demon can tell you when it will be held. You should stay out of sight until we leave."

"Thank you, Karin," Sookie said, meaning it. "I appreciate it."

As Sookie moved among her tables, she would see Karin staring at her belly, her mouth pulled down in an all too apparent look of disgust. It was hard to ignore, and Sookie had to work hard to keep her mind focused on her customers.

That night Sookie wept. She cried for the unfairness of fate and she wished, not for the first time, that the child resting under her heart was Eric Northman's.


	4. Chapter 4 - Spring Forward

**Chapter 4 – Spring Forward**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

For weeks after seeing Karin, Sookie became hyper-vigilant. Every passing breeze seemed to put her instincts on high alert. She'd stop, regardless of where she was and what she was doing, close her eyes, and mentally scan as far as she could. It wasn't unusual for her to pick up the faint buzz that signaled witch, or, more usually, latent witch. From time to time, she would feel the snarly red of Were, but she never found the void that signaled vampire. She'd focus, stretching out as far as she could, finding that as the days progressed, the exercise seemed to improve her span.

Days became weeks and April winds went from blustery to more gentle. The first hint of spring was on the trees in Boston Common and, with the warmer breezes, Sookie allowed her guard to slip, and then to fall, as the needs of her pregnancy became more pressing.

The visits to Rae, which had been twice a month, became weekly. Sookie had counted the calendar over and over and any way she figured it, forty weeks from the first time with Sam placed this baby's due date in June, although no one believed it.

"It's probably a fairy thing," Fran told her. Over the months, Sookie and Fran had become close. Fran knew Sookie's history and insisted that Sookie's doctor be told certain things as well. "She thinks you're Susan Hale," Fran reminded Sookie. "It's not perfect, but it's some measure of protection. If you're really worried, I can put a block on her ability to tell anyone."

In the end, Sookie relented. "I'm so relieved," Rae told them once she knew. "There were some things that weren't adding up. You know," and she gave Sookie a close look, "you're not the first Supe I've treated."

"That may be," Sookie sighed, "but I'm probably the first one of me."

Arrangements were made for Sookie to deliver in Fran's home. It wasn't optimal as far as Rae was concerned, but the doctor understood the need without having to know all the details. Supplies were laid in and the waiting began.

One of the factors that made Rae so amenable to the idea of avoiding the hospital was Sookie's health. Sookie was the poster child for pregnant women. Her skin glowed and her hair was extra shiny. Her nails grew long and strong and, even though she needed more sleep, she felt great. There was no sign of any of the medical challenges little women carrying bigger babies seemed to contract later in their pregnancies. Sookie's fingers didn't swell and she could still wear all her shoes. Her blood pressure was amazingly low and there wasn't any sign of gestational diabetes or hypertension. Everywhere she went, people just seemed to gravitate toward her, smiling first at her, then down at the huge expanse that her pregnancy clothes were not quite covering anymore.

"I can't see buying bigger shirts!" Sookie moaned. "It seems like a waste of money for only another month or so."

"We could cut up a couple bed sheets," Fran teased. "You could start wearing them like togas."

"That's mean and besides, you're too cheap to sacrifice your sheets!" Sookie sassed back.

Still, since the baby was large, contingency plans were made. The local hospital was less than fifteen minutes away, as long as it wasn't rush hour. "Even an ambulance makes slow progress in a city like this," Rae warned.

As much as the thought of complications made Sookie nervous, the thought of being spotted worried her more.

It was the last day of April when Sean Bailey came over for dinner. In truth, he was making the dinner. It was something that started shortly after Sookie left the restaurant. Sean asked if Sookie would take over his bookkeeping and she agreed. He came by Fran's that first Monday to talk through the accounting program he'd forwarded and to explain the stack of receipts he collected in a box. As Sookie started looking over the restaurant's records, Sean stood up, tied a towel around his hips, and started rooting around in the refrigerator. Within no time, he'd made omelets for all of them, and a tradition was born.

From that night forward, every Monday night, which was the night the restaurant was closed, Sean would swing by. He'd needle Fran, hand the box of receipts to Sookie, and make dinner for the three of them.

Fran told Sookie that she thought Sean was sweet on her, and Sookie knew her landlady was right. Sean was over forty and a confirmed bachelor, but there was something about Susan Hale that had sparked an interest. Sean liked Fran and enjoyed her sarcastic views and sharp humor, but it was Susan Hale who made him laugh. Sookie could feel him watching her and she knew his feelings were beginning to grow. A little voice was telling Sookie she needed to put an end to it, but there was something flattering in knowing that even though she was pregnant and not at her best, Sean still found her attractive.

"You don't have to marry him," Fran told her after Sean left one night. "He could be your friend with benefits."

"I don't think that would be fair," Sookie replied, and she resolved to set things straight, but somehow the opportunity hadn't presented itself yet.

As they finished the dishes that evening, Sookie was surprised by a sudden pain. It felt like a cramp and she leaned over, telling Fran, "I don't think dinner sat well."

"Not surprised," Fran grinned, and then turning to Sean, she said, "I told you not to add the cumin!"

Twenty minutes later, as Sookie worked on the receipts, she found she had to stand up and walk around. "I don't know what's happening," she groaned, pressing her back, "but I really don't feel well."

"Well, I have a pretty good idea," Fran told her, "and I think we'd better call Rae."

Sean helped Sookie sit down and then called Rae's emergency number, which was taped to the fridge.

"Why don't you give her a hand upstairs?" Fran asked Sean, "I'll call Lora. It could be a long night."

"What can I do for you, Susan?" Sean asked as he walked beside her up the stairs, his hand under her arm.

"Just wish me well," Sookie answered. She stared in this kind man's face. She saw all the things she'd seen in Sam Merlotte. Sean was patient and gentle. He honestly cared for her, and she knew he was a good man who would treat her right, but Sookie also knew that wasn't enough.

As they approached her bedroom door, Sookie stopped and looking at Sean, told him, "I know you're building some kind of hope about me, but I wish you wouldn't."

Sean's eyes showed his hurt for just a moment and Sookie wished things could be different. "Let me guess. Your heart belongs to someone else," and he looked at her belly. Sookie could tell he was thinking she was running away from the baby's father, and, with her southern accent, he had made an assumption that wasn't flattering.

It stung a little, that Sean would think she was the kind of woman who would be in love with someone she had to run from, but pride seemed a small price to pay to let Sean keep his dignity. If agreeing with him meant he thought a little less of her, that was okay. She purposely laid her hand alongside her belly and said, "Yeah, I guess that's the truth." Smiling at Sean, she added, "Thanks for helping me up here. Fran will give you call when it's over, if you'd like."

"I would, and good luck," he told her. Sean turned to walk down the stairs and he didn't look back. Sookie heard his thoughts as he relegated Susan Hale to permanent friend status and Sookie was surprised at how it made her swallow, but then the next pain hit, like a belt slowly tightening, and Sean Bailey and his lost regard stopped feeling important.

When Rae arrived, Lora and Fran were already upstairs in Sookie's room. Lora was changing the bed, using the special bed protector and old sheets and towels that they'd set aside for just this time. Sookie was in the bathroom. The pains were coming low and strong, and she found she couldn't decide if she was going to be sick from one end or the other.

"That's normal," Rae assured her, and with Lora, they helped Sookie change out of her clothes and into the loose robe she'd wear until things were over.

"How long do you think this will take?" Sookie asked, rubbing the side of her belly as the pain subsided.

"As long as it takes," Rae said sympathetically. "If things get too tough, I alerted the hospital and they're on standby. As least this little one decided to get started nice and late, so you won't have to worry about delivering in a traffic jam."

For the first two hours, the pains came fairly regularly. They were well-spaced, twenty to thirty minutes apart, and they all lasted for several minutes. Rae told Sookie everything was looking good, but then things stopped. They had almost an hour where there were no pains at all. "False labor?" Fran asked.

"Nope," Rae shook her head. "This baby is just taking a rest before the real show begins." When Sookie got up to walk with Lora back and forth into the sitting room, Rae told the landlady, "The baby is big. If she starts having problems, I'm calling the ambulance. I'm not asking permission."

"I'll back you," Fran nodded. "I've become fond of her, and, besides, she's promised I'll be godmother to the child. Do you know what it is?" Sookie had been adamant that she didn't want to know the baby's gender, refusing to look at the ultrasounds in case she saw something by accident.

"I do," Rae smiled. "I don't think Susan wants to tell."

"Susan doesn't want to know. That's different. Besides, I'm old. No shock is good for me, so it would be better if you gave me a heads up now," and Fran fixed the doctor with her best beady eye.

"You're going to have to put up with a Y chromosome," Rae whispered.

"Well, shit!" Fran said sourly, then just as quickly, "But that's okay. I'll finally have a chance to train one of them right."

Sookie came back, leaning heavily on Lora's arm, bent over, and holding her belly. "We're moving again," Lora confirmed, and this time, the pains came closer together.

Rae was standing beside Sookie when her water broke. Lora grabbed a towel, and Rae helped Sookie step on it, and then helped her walk to the bathroom to get cleaned up, and the long night truly began.

When it passed midnight and things seemed to stall again, Sookie told Rae, "I don't think I can do this."

"You're doing fine," Rae assured her, but she used a fetal monitoring device she'd brought with her and checked, just in case.

By one in the morning, Sookie was starting to push, but, again, things seemed to stall. "I know you don't want to go to the hospital," Rae told her, "but if things don't start moving along, I am going to call it, and you're going to be taking a trip."

Sookie thought about things. She was tired and aching. The pains when they came had her grunting and roaring, but she felt certain that if she had this baby in a hospital, it would be a problem. She couldn't explain why she thought that, but the certainty of her conviction gave her strength.

As the clock chimed two in the morning, the witching hour, Corbett Eric Hale slid into the world. He was eight pounds and twelve ounces of big-shouldered, big-headed, blond baby. When Rae laid him on Sookie's chest, Fran gasped, "He's as big as a toddler!"

"He doesn't look premature to me!" Lora was smiling, and she stroked Sookie's hair back from her forehead.

Sookie couldn't stop looking at her son. He didn't cry. Instead, he seemed to be interested in everything around him, his big blue eyes moving from one object to the next as he pushed himself up on his arms. He didn't seem tired or exhausted by the experience, but then he lowered himself, laying his head against Sookie's chest, and she felt something that reminded her of that sense of well-being she got when her fairy relatives breathed into her. She remembered Dermot telling her that she would always feel best when in contact with her kind.

"Mine!" Sookie sighed and, in that moment, she felt her own exhaustion. She tried not to think too much about the work still being done on her. Rae grumbled about tearing and the doctor was busy stitching her up.

Lora lifted the baby away and took him into the bathroom to clean him up. When she returned, she lay the swaddled infant in Fran's lap until Sookie could get cleaned up, too. "He came too fast in the end," Rae told Sookie as she sat in an armchair watching Lora change the bed. "I had to give you a lot of stitches, so you're going to need to be careful. If you tear them, you could be in big trouble. I don't want you picking him up on your own for a couple days. I also want you to stay off your feet as much as possible."

Turning to Fran, Rae said, "I'm going to order her a nurse. Won't be long, just a couple days to come in and check on her. I'm going to have a walker dropped off later today, too. I want her to use it when she goes to the bathroom. Things are going to hurt, and I don't want her stumbling and falling. If I had realized how big this baby was, I would have insisted she be in the hospital."

"All's well that ends well," Fran said sharply. "I think this one was just waiting for the opportune time."

"And what time was that?" Lora asked as she lifted the baby from Fran and returned him to Sookie's arms.

"The time when the veil between the world of the dead and this world is thinnest," Fran replied. "I don't think it's coincidence he chose Beltane to join the world." Shuffling closer, Fran laid her hand on his head. "He is a handsome boy," the landlady assured Sookie, "though I can't say he looks like some Shifter's child."

"Definitely not Were," Rae agreed, "but Shifter? That was the father?" The doctor shrugged, then told Sookie, "If you're worried about the child being different, most Supe children don't manifest any of their differences until puberty. I don't see anything about your boy that would hint that he's anything other than any other normal, human baby. Well, other than the fact he's near perfect for a natural birth. Most babies have some kind of funky feature that straightens out, but this one," and Rae leaned over him, his eyes closed and his thumb in his mouth, "this one is picture perfect."

Rae told Sookie (Susan) it would take a few days for her milk to come in. Sookie was resolved to try and breast feed, a decision that had enthusiastic support from both Fran and Lora. They did have a supply of pre-made baby bottles for these first few days, and Lora brought the portable cradle up close to Sookie's bed.

A spare bed was made up in the sitting room across the hall and Lora assured Sookie that she would be there to get up to help when the baby cried. "I don't want you messing up the doctor's work," she said gently.

Sookie turned on her side, her eyes full of the baby laying in the bassinet next to her. Her eyes blinked, once, then twice, then closed completely.

"Let's get you downstairs," Lora told Fran.

"I'll take her," Rae offered, and the two women walked slowly down the stairs and then into Fran's bedroom.

"What do you think he is?" Rae asked the older woman.

"What?" Fran challenged. "You don't think he's a shifter's son?"

"I can tell you don't," the doctor shot back.

"Fair enough," Fran nodded, sitting heavily on the edge of her bed. "Well," she said, "if you ask me, I think our friend has herself that rarest of the rare. I think she has her heart's desire."

"What does that mean?" Rae asked.

"I don't think I know," Fran smiled, and then laying down, sighed. "Thank you, Rae. You are a good friend."

"And you are an aggravating woman," Rae replied affectionately.

The next morning when Fran came downstairs, Lora was sitting in the kitchen, young Corbett in her lap drinking a bottle. "She's sleeping so soundly, I couldn't bring myself to wake her," Lora sighed.

Fran nodded, "Corbett is a good name for him. He's like a raven, I think. More than he appears."

"Sookie said she's going to call him Ricky," Lora told the older woman.

It made Fran laugh. "Of course she is!" she exclaimed, then holding out her arms, accepted the child. "Well, Ricky," she said, quietly looking into wide-open blue eyes, "I'm your godmother, Fran. Welcome to the light, little man."

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Slowly, the rhythms of the house found their level again. It took Sookie longer to recover her energy than she could find patience to endure. Lora and Fran ended up reading her the riot act. Fran threatened to cast a spell that would trap her in her bed, but, finally, the stitches healed enough that Sookie was released to walk downstairs.

The start of May brought unseasonably warm weather, and Mr. Cataliades found the new mother sitting in the enclosed backyard, leaning over her son. Ricky loved being in the sun. He was alert for an infant and his head turned when the attorney walked toward them.

"You are more beautiful than ever," the demon gallantly saluted Sookie, bending over her hand. "And who is this?" he asked, turning a little.

"Ricky," Sookie told him. "Ricky Hale."

Mr. Cataliades stood very still, then he turned his head. Ricky continued to watch him, but, after a bit, the baby yawned and looked away. "That's as it should be, I suppose," the attorney said.

"What?" Sookie asked, suddenly anxious.

"Don't worry!" the demon said rather guiltily, dropping into a chair next to the telepath. "I was checking for any sign that your son is telepathic, but I can't sense anything from him."

"So, that's good?" Sookie said hopefully.

"Yes, I think so," Mr. Cataliades assured her. "I've brought some papers for you to review and sign," and he turned to the briefcase he'd set on the ground.

It was agreed they'd move inside, and Mr. Cataliades surprised her by scooping up her son and cradling him rather expertly against his shoulder. "It's strange how you can realize you missed a thing, even though you haven't thought about it in a long time," the attorney told Sookie, and he sighed.

"Let me take him," Lora hustled forward as they entered the kitchen. "It's time for his nap and that will let you two visit."

"He has many protectors," Desmond said absently, watching the woman hustle toward the stairs with her charge. Turning to Sookie, he said, "Were you aware of the wards in place around the house? They are strong. They almost had me fooled. I would have walked right by if I didn't know what I was looking for. Fran is an exceptional witch."

"She is," Sookie agreed. "I find I'm happy here."

Mr. Cataliades pulled out several contracts, "These are the Bills of Sale for the house. The buyer was willing to pay a bonus for a promise of anonymity."

"Am I going to be unhappy when I find out who owns the place?" Sookie asked.

"No, I don't believe so," and Desmond looked down to try and hide a quick smile.

"I know it's someone I know. Let me guess. If I ever want the place back, the buyer will sell it to me," and Sookie shook her head. "All these plots and secrets! I really don't ever see myself going back there!"

"If not for yourself, you have your son to consider," and the attorney gave her a knowing look. "Your son deserves to meet his family…" For a minute, Sookie thought Mr. Cataliades was talking about Sam and she opened her mouth to speak, but he finished, "His cousins. You should know your brother approached me and my agents, asking about the house. He was not pleased about the arrangement. I suspect he will search you out about it."

"I told you Jason wouldn't like it," Sookie sighed. "Well, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

"There is something else," the attorney told her as he watched her sign the papers that authorized all the proceeds to be deposited in a special account. "There is trouble brewing and you should be on the alert. I don't know if you recall Stan, the new King of Texas." When Sookie said she did, Mr. Cataliades said, "There is bad blood between Stan and Felipe de Castro. Some are saying the dispute could brew into an all-out war and there are some monarchs who are taking sides."

"Well," Sookie shrugged, "guess that's one more reason I'm glad I'm here and not there."

The attorney looked at her in a way that made Sookie feel naïve, "It won't take Felipe long to start wondering where you are. Stan made a play to capture Barry. As you know, he is related to me and I have taken steps to hide him. Felipe will want a telepath in his retinue. It would give him an advantage. I haven't heard that he's actively looking for you yet, but when Stan's frustration over losing Barry becomes more public, I think we can assume De Castro's thoughts will turn to his own telepath."

"No one knows where I am," Sookie shook her head. "Aside from Karin, I haven't seen one vampire."

"You saw Northman's progeny?" and the attorney's gaze sharpened. Sookie described the encounter and Cataliades sat back. "You know there is a Summit being held in Boston in January," he stated. When Sookie acknowledged she remembered, the attorney said, "The advance team will be here any day. They will meet with the hotel they have selected and scout out the City. It would be better if you were out of the City for a period of time this summer."

"I can just not go out at night," Sookie said reasonably. "Ricky and I keep pretty much the same hours, so by eight we're both asleep."

"It's not just the vampires," Mr. Cataliades chastened her, "It's their retinues. They have day men and Weres who will do their bidding. You probably aren't aware of it, but you have a distinct aroma. Anyone downwind of you will be drawn to you. You smell strongly of fairy."

"Oh!" and Sookie had nothing to say.

"Well, I was planning to spend my two months in Chester, Massachusetts," Fran said from the door. Lora was right behind her, and she pulled a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator as Fran joined Sookie and the demon at the table.

"I don't recall you mentioning you were leaving!" Sookie blurted out.

"I don't recall that it was my job to tell you!" Fran snapped back. "I have a place out there."

"I've never heard of Chester," the attorney sat back.

"I'm not surprised," Fran said thinly. "Not a lot out there to attract a fancy attorney like you. Three private schools, an artists' colony over the summer, and a theater series. It's just a sleepy, little, New England town in the foothills of the Berkshires. I've had the house out there forever, but I wasn't sure I was going to go at all unless Sookie was feeling better. I can't think of a better place to spend the summer for a new baby," and she turned to Sookie, "Unless you have other plans?"

"Sounds fine to me," Sookie shrugged.

"Can you leave soon?" Mr. Cataliades pressed.

"So, you think the troubles will reach for her?" Fran asked.

"What?" Sookie felt as if she was in the middle of an adult conversation and she was the only child. "You know about this, too?" she challenged Fran.

"Just because I'm old doesn't mean I don't listen to the gossip," Fran waved her hand.

"Both sides have offered Fran money," Lora ratted her friend out as she placed the tray with the tea and glasses on the table.

"So, you will decline?" the attorney asked.

"I've already declined!" Fran protested. "I have no time for politics. It's nothing but trouble and in the end, everyone loses!"

"If they've found you," Sookie started to worry, and when Ricky started to cry in the other room, Sookie felt her worry escalate.

"We can leave by next week," Fran told her after Sookie walked back into the room, her son in her arms. Ricky was making his hungry noise and Sookie excused herself to take her son upstairs. She didn't mind feeding him in front of women she knew, but there was something bone deep that made Sookie shy about feeding him in front of others, particularly men.

"You think this is serious, don't you?" Fran asked the attorney once Sookie left the room.

"I can't tell," he told her. "I've seen these things blow over. I've even seen them end in a royal wedding. What is worrisome is that they are lining up allies and assets."

"Then I'll make sure there is one less asset for them to find," and the two touched tea glasses as they waited for Sookie to return.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Chester was a revelation. Sookie had read about places like this. She felt as if she'd stepped into Little Women or Eight Cousins. There were tidy clapboard houses set around a green with a white church with a high, pointed steeple positioned at the end. Fran's house was off the green and sat on a large, green lot surrounded by perennial gardens and white picket fences. There was a barn to the back of the property and large oak trees. "This place is like a dream!" she breathed as she stood beside the Prius, Ricky in her arms.

Fran led the way and the door opened onto wide, wooden plank floors and a central hall that had formal sitting rooms to the left and to the right. The front door had a carved wood frame and a glass, half-moon transom over the top. The furniture was draped in drop cloths. Sookie took Fran's arm and, following her directions, walked them both back to the kitchen. Fran lowered herself onto a chair with a sigh, and waved toward the old-style phone connected to the wall. "There is a number beside the phone for Sarah. Call her and let her know we're here. She's expecting us."

"Do you have working people everywhere you go?" Sookie asked as she dialed. "What are you? Threatening their families? Are they in thrall to you?"

"I pay well, Smarty Pants," Fran groused. "Now, after you make that call, you better find a fresh diaper for my godson. He stinks to high heaven!"

It was a debate between them as to what diaper method should be used. Sookie understood the negative impact to the environment that disposable diapers presented, but she wasn't keen about using a diaper service or having to spend every day washing dirty diapers herself. Scrunching up her face, Sookie plopped her soggy son on Fran's lap and headed out to the car.

Sookie was bringing in the rest of the suitcases when Sarah walked up the drive. "You must be Sookie," the slight, grey-haired woman said. "I have heard so much about you! You are going to join us for sketching classes this summer, aren't you?" and before Sookie could say one more word, Sarah had the suitcases from her and was herding her toward the house in a running dialogue that didn't allow Sookie to add one word in edgewise.

Sarah took the suitcases straight to the back of the house and set them next to a double bed with an iron headboard, and then walked back to the kitchen. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "There you are!" and she kissed Fran's head while scooping up Ricky at the same time. "Good grief! He's wet! Here!" and Sookie found her son back in her hands. Fran and Sarah started talking, and Sookie realized their way of conversing seemed to involve talking louder and louder until the other acknowledged what was said. It was noisy and funny in the way best friends can be. Sookie took Ricky up the stairs to the room that was described as being set aside for her. She glanced at the steep staircase and thanked goodness Ricky wasn't crawling yet.

Her bags were next to the bed, and, as Fran had described, there was an old-fashioned cradle against the far wall with a sheet draped over it to keep the dust out. Using the floor, Sookie started to change Ricky's diaper, but when she saw the mess that awaited her, she picked him up and walked down the hall in search of a bathroom. What she found was a lovely modern bathroom, complete with tub and separate shower, that was shared between her bedroom and the one next door. She wondered if the hot water was turned on, but she didn't have to wait long to find her answer. Plugging the tub, Sookie ran the water until it was about hip deep, and then after doing some triage wiping and washing of her son, Sookie stepped into the tub and sat Ricky in her lap.

Her son loved taking baths. He kicked at the water and laughed. He would try to grab the water and put it in his mouth. Sookie pulled a washcloth from the stack that was in the small cabinet beside the bathtub and squeezed the warm water over him, which made him laugh more. There was something in the way his eyes squeezed and his mouth opened that made her remember taking baths with Eric Northman once upon a time, causing a sharp pain that squeezed her heart.

As if he somehow knew, Ricky stopped laughing and looked at her, but before she could wonder, he leaned forward, trying to capture her breast, and so Sookie shifted him and she sat in the warm tub, squeezing warm water over her son as he ate. The light slanted through the little window and hit the beveled glass panels, sending small rainbows around the room. Ricky detached long enough to chuckle, and then nuzzled back to her again. It was a perfect moment.

When Sookie returned downstairs, she met Sarah's twin sons. They were students at the nearby private school, but working for their mother over the summer. They were pulling sheets from the furniture in each room and folding them, revealing beautiful, shining, dark wood furniture. Sarah and Fran were still in the kitchen loudly talking. "Oh! There you are!" Fran greeted her with more animation than Sookie had seen in her landlady, and the best summer of her life began.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Ricky was a tanned, sturdy, six-month-old when they returned to Boston in early November. As they got into the car, Sookie found she was reluctant to leave Chester. She had formed an attachment to the town. Even after the first snows fell and Sookie fell on ice, she found she loved the little town. The house was capable of being a year-round residence, but Fran felt too fragile to face the kind of winter that a northern New England town could dish out. "You can actually lose power out here," Fran told Sookie. "You have to use the fireplaces and that takes wood and more energy than I have!"

Ricky slept for part of the trip, but for the rest he remained oddly subdued, as if he'd caught Sookie's mood. He stared out the window and pointed, using his noises to attract Fran's attention. As agreed, Sookie drove and Fran rode in the back with Ricky. It was a situation that suited them all.

Lora was waiting for them as they walked through the garage and across the yard. It was almost comical, watching her struggle as she tried to decide who to embrace first, Fran or Ricky. Dinner and Sean were both waiting for them inside. "I'm glad you're back, Susan" he said quietly, and kissed Sookie on the cheek before embracing Fran, and squeezing her until she protested.

"You'll resume my bookkeeping, right?" Sean asked as dinner was winding down.

"If you'd like," Sookie nodded. She could hear that Sean had missed her and that it troubled him. She sighed and tucked that away, instead wondering if she could line up a couple more bookkeeping jobs from the small businesses around them. It would keep her from having to leave the house and Ricky.

As they were cleaning up the table, Lora exclaimed, "Oh, good grief! I almost forgot."

Sookie could tell that the news Lora had wasn't exactly good and she felt herself tense. A moment later, she could tell it was mixed news indeed. "Your brother, Jason, is in town," Lora told her. "He stopped by here yesterday and I told him you were on your way home. He said he'd be back again tomorrow."

"Great!" Sookie said, and glancing at her son who was drowsing in Fran's arms, she was pretty sure it wasn't good news. Not good news at all.

xxxXXXxxx

"Well, you sure still know your way around biscuits and gravy!" Jason was being his full-on charming self. Sookie wasn't sure it was his original plan, but then he met Fran. If there was one thing Jason did well, it was work older women. He pulled out his dimple and his cleft chin, turned up the 'aw shucks,' and went all out on the Southern manners. There were plenty of 'Yes, ma'am's' and 'No, ma'am's.' He pulled out chairs and asked opinions. If Sookie hadn't seen it so often, she knew she would have been pulled in.

Fortunately, Fran came pre-wired with a bad attitude toward men in general, and charming men in particular. She told Sookie later that when she saw a man smile as often as her brother had during lunch, she immediately assumed half of what he was saying was a lie.

"Well, Jeez, Sook! I ain't disputing the house was yours to sell to whoever you wanted," Jason leaned closer, his smile slipping a little. "I'm just saying you could have offered me a shot at it first before selling it to strangers."

"You have our parents' house," Sookie repeated for the second time. "I know you don't have a mortgage right now, but you do have loans out for your truck and Michelle's car." Sookie was pretty sure Jason had an equity loan out against the house as well that he pulled to pay credit card bills. Michelle and Jason weren't poor, but they didn't live frugal either, and Michelle wasn't working.

"But strangers!" Jason's smile slipped pretty well off. "And now you're telling me you don't even know who these people are! How do you think that's going to go over?" And there it was. Jason wasn't really angry about the house. He was angry about how his sister bringing outsiders into the community would make him look.

"I somehow don't think they will be strangers to us," Sookie said, and gave Jason a look she hoped he'd catch.

"Oh!" Jason sat back, his pout starting to grow, "So, you do know who it is. You just don't want to tell me!"

With a sigh, Sookie wiped her hands, and sat down across from Jason, "I honestly don't know. Mr. Cataliades, you remember him?" and Sookie waited for Jason to nod once, "He handled it. Whoever it was wanted their name shielded, but I'm betting it's our Fae relatives."

"Those bastards are back?" Jason huffed. Jason and Dermot had formed a relationship of sorts, and you could see why since they looked almost identical, but Jason had no good opinion of the rest of the Fae, including their Great Grandfather.

"I don't really think they are totally back," Sookie shook her head, "but, apparently, they aren't as far away as they once were."

"You're sure it's them?" and Jason got a piggy look.

"Honestly? No, I'm not one hundred percent certain, but they're the only ones who would want to stay secret and would have the money."

"Could be your vampire friends," Jason said meanly.

"I don't have any vampire friends anymore," Sookie replied, and the pain of that statement had her biting her lip.

"Yeah, it was a good thing that you came to your senses," Jason's smile returned, not noticing Sookie's discomfort. He leaned back, and Sookie thought he was coming to why he was here. "I know you felt you had to get away. Michelle told me that most women feel they have to do that every once in a while and you did go through some pretty tough times. There was a while there when you were in the hospital as much as you were home. And then there was all that mess with Northman, but you've had almost a whole year and it's time for you to come home."

"I'm not planning on coming back," Sookie said the words quietly, but with conviction, and Jason must have heard it because his eyes widened and his smile fell again.

"Look, Sookie, enough is enough! I get that the house is gone, but I talked with Sam and he'd rent you one of his apartments reasonable. You still have half-ownership in Merlotte's and he'd take you back." Jason sat back, and his eyes dropped as he said, "Of course, you probably didn't hear that Sam found someone. She's a Were from Minden and it's looking kind of serious." He glanced up through his eyelashes, and Sookie realized Jason thought Sookie would be jealous.

"That's good," Sookie said sincerely. "Sam deserves someone who can make him happy. It just was never going to be me."

"Is that why you left?" Jason asked. "Because you fought with Sam?"

"There were lots of reasons," Sookie started to say, but then she heard the front door open. "There was one big reason, and I'm kind of sorry I didn't tell you about it before now." Sookie stood up, "If you'll just wait a minute," and she walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Lora had the stroller in the hallway and she was unsnapping the restraints. Ricky's eyes found her and his happy, drooling smile lit up his whole face. "There's my man!" Sookie reached in and helped to pull him from his warmer jacket. In answer to the question on Lora's face, Sookie said in a sing song voice, "Guess who's come to meet you? Your Uncle Jason!" She pulled Ricky up to her shoulder and kissed the side of his head, and he rewarded her with a wet, goopy mark against her cheek as he snuggled his nose into her neck.

Lora trailed them into the kitchen. Jason was pouring Fran more tea and he had his party manners face in place. Sookie waited for him to set the pitcher down before she said, "Jase? I'd like you to meet someone." She turned Ricky a little before saying, "This is your nephew, Corbett."

Jason's tentative smile drained from his face and was replaced by a faint tint of pink. His mouth worked as he looked at Ricky, and then his eyes snapped to Sookie. Sookie could see that he was angry, but it didn't make sense until he said, "You had that Deader's baby? What the fuck, Sookie!"

"What are you talking about?" Sookie instinctively brought Ricky closer to her as he jumped a little in her arms, startled by her brother's roar. "You know vampires can't have babies! Ricky is Sam's child. I'm sorry to spring it on you this way, but I didn't want to be with Sam, and I just couldn't stay in Bon Temps knowing I was going to have a baby. Ricky isn't the only reason I left, but he's one of the main ones."

As always, contact with her skin made both she and Ricky feel better, and she felt him settle against her. Ricky lifted his head from her shoulder and looked at Jason again, curious about this new person. It was one of the fun things about her son, strangers were just another adventure for him. Sookie didn't think her child had a shy bone in his body.

Jason sat down heavily, and then leaned back, his hands loose over his knees. Sookie walked further into the kitchen and sat back down herself. Ricky squirmed in her lap. He smiled at Fran and then looked back at Jason. Making up his mind, he held his hands out to Fran and Sookie automatically rose, deposited her boy in his favorite's arms, and then refreshed her own tea before sitting back down.

"You are going to honestly tell me that ain't Northman's?" Jason said, staring at Ricky. "And what are you calling him?"

"Ricky," Sookie replied. "Corbett is a mouthful. Ricky just seemed to fit."

"He's smart as they come," Fran added. Her hands were busy, but her eyes remained fastened on Jason and it wasn't lost on her brother.

"Well, hell," Jason glanced back at Sookie, "He looks just like him."

"He looks just like you," Sookie countered. "I don't have our baby pictures anymore, but Ricky looks like us. When he smiles, he looks a lot like Dermot."

"Sam didn't say anything about this." Sookie could see the moment her brother landed on what he felt was something clever. "You'd think a man would mention he had a child somewhere if he knew," and Jason let it hang there.

"I didn't tell him," Sookie confirmed what her brother was hinting. "I should have, but I wasn't in a good place when I left."

"A man has a right to know he has a child, Sookie. I can't believe you haven't told him. That's just cold!" Jason sat back, his confidence and swagger returning. "Now you have to come back. You have to bring this boy back so he can know his Daddy."

"You just told me Sam's moved on," Sookie said quickly. "I'm not arguing that Sam doesn't deserve to know. He does, and its past time for me to tell him, but I'm not going to ruin what he has going by parading into town with a child he never wanted."

"You got to tell him!" Jason was feeling himself on firm ground and he leaned forward. "A man has a right to know!"

"Not everyone is like you," Sookie countered. "And by the way, if Dawn, or one of those other scores of females who couldn't wait to open their legs to you, showed up on Michelle's doorstep with a little Jason in her arms, how do you think that would go?" It was almost funny, watching the slow progress of an idea come into Jason's head. When she saw he was a little less sure of himself, she pounced, "Exactly! Now, if Sam wants to meet him, I'll take Ricky down there. But I'm going to call him first." Jason opened his mouth to say something, and Sookie used the lesson she'd learned here and talked first. "You're right. I should have let him know a long time ago, but now is better than never, right?"

Sookie knew that coming clean now with Sam was inevitable. Jason would return home and let it slip. It was a certainty. Her brother couldn't keep a secret if it was tattooed on his backside where he couldn't see it and no one told him what it said, and this was something Jason didn't think should be a secret. Sookie knew the minute Jason was home, his mouth would run, and in no time, the whole town would know that Sookie had an illegitimate boy.

By the time Jason left, he'd held Ricky, and even complimented Sookie on his size and behavior. He talked about her coming home for Thanksgiving, but Sookie told him that wasn't likely, but maybe next year.

"I'm still your brother," he told her when he was leaving. "You can't just pretend you don't have family anymore," and for a moment, Sookie saw the two of them sitting side by side, holding hands in those terrible days right after their parents were killed. Jason was her older brother, and Sookie could see that there was some part of his visit that was because he was honestly worried about her. When Sookie hugged him, she was sincere.

"I'm getting better," she told her brother. "I wasn't, Jason. I was in a dark place, but being here is good for me. It's good for Ricky and me. It's a new start, and I needed that. I didn't leave because I didn't love you, and I do miss you. We'll figure this out."

"You're family," Jason told her, and Sookie was grateful that under all of it, her brother still felt that she was irreplaceable in his life. It wasn't something he showed often, but it made Sookie feel whole.


	5. Chapter 5 - Another Page Turns

**Chapter 5 - Another Page Turns**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Sookie lay in her bed after Jason left. Fran had offered her brother a place to sleep in the house, but he declined. Sookie's brother didn't travel much and Sookie was pretty clear that a night drinking his way across Boston was more enticing than spending a night with two women and tea. That left Sookie alone with her sure knowledge that she needed to call Sam before Jason got home.

Twice she picked up the phone and thumbed up Sam's contact information. Twice she pushed the button only to dismiss it. Finally, looking at the clock, she knew she couldn't delay any longer. It was late here, but Sam would just be headed back to his trailer in Bon Temps. Merlotte's would be closed. Sookie could see him as clearly as if she was standing there. Sam's ginger hair would be ruffled and standing on end. His shirt would be stained with the sweat of closing and cleaning after turning the air conditioners off. It was just too expensive to run them once the customers left for the night. She could smell him, musty and slightly sour. She remembered thinking it was a relief to smell Sam after the dry, sawgrass scent of Eric, but she had been angry.

Sookie brought up the number, stabbed the call button, and closed her eyes as she raised the phone to her ear. It rang, and then it rang again. "Hello?" a female voice answered.

"Can I talk with Sam?" Sookie asked.

"Who is this?" the woman asked, her voice sharp.

"No one you need worry about," Sookie sighed, "Just an old friend."

There was a sigh in return, and Sookie wondered if she was going to have to try to reach Sam at work when she heard Sam's voice say, "Who is it, Cher?" Hearing him call another woman the same endearment he used for her put steel in Sookie's spine. A minute later, Sam was on the phone asking, "Hello? Who is this?"

"It's Sookie, Sam." Sookie didn't feel shy or awkward. This was now just a job that had to be done and done right, because the only man in her life who mattered was sleeping just across the hall in the converted sitting room, his fist jammed in his mouth.

"Sookie?" Sam sounded happy to hear from her at first, then, "Well, hell girl. What do you want?" Sookie figured the rapid change in tone must have been when Sam caught the stink-eye from his new girlfriend.

"I have something I need to tell you before you hear it from someone else," Sookie told Sam, "and I'm not sure how you'll feel about it."

"You want to come back and start working at Merlotte's again?" Sam guessed. He didn't say it happy. He didn't say it happy at all.

"No, Sam, that's not it," Sookie let him off the hook. "Truth is; I don't ever want to come back to Bon Temps. I've moved on with my life, and from what Jason tells me, you have, too."

"Jase said he was coming up to find you," Sam's voice was friendly enough. "I guess he did."

"Saw him tonight," Sookie confirmed. "I told him what I just told you. I'm happy here. But there's something else. You see, when I came up here I had a baby." Sookie didn't know what else to say, so she waited.

Sookie could hear Sam moving and then she heard the trailer door slam, so she figured he'd walked outside. "Well," he said cautiously, "I guess that's good news. You told me you didn't want children, but I'm guessing you changed your mind."

Sookie could hear the unasked question and she didn't hesitate, "I guess I owe you an apology. I should have told you sooner."

Now the silence stretched longer. She figured Sam had been hoping she'd say it was someone else's. When the silence continued, Sookie said, "I think you should know I don't want anything from you. I don't want money. Truth is, I just want to live here like I've been living."

"You weren't going to tell me at all?" Sookie couldn't tell what Sam was feeling. When his voice got quiet like this, it could go either way.

"I was," Sookie said. "I should have told you sooner."

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"A boy," Sookie answered. "He was born right on May first."

There was some quiet again. Sookie was just about to speak again when Sam asked, "Does he look like me?"

There was something about it, and Sookie laughed, "Not a lick! He's Stackhouse through and through. Blond and blue-eyed."

There was some more silence and Sookie got an uncomfortable feeling, but then Sam said, "You heard I've moved on."

"I heard," Sookie answered, "and I'm happy for you. I don't want to make any problems for you. Goodness knows, I put you through enough. Fact is, I'd like you to sign papers saying you won't push parental rights." It was a bold move, and Sookie heard Sam's gasp. When he didn't say anything, she said, "I'm sorry. Maybe I was too harsh. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings about this."

"Can you text me a picture?" Sam's voice was tight.

"Right now?" Sookie asked.

"Yes," Sam growled. "Right now!" Sookie pulled the phone away from her ear and did a quick search through the photo gallery. She had a new photo from today of Ricky smiling his happy, two-tooth smile and she texted it to Sam.

"I sent it," she told him.

The line was quiet again and she could hear him moving a little. After a moment, Sam was back on the phone, "I'm okay with doing what you ask." It surprised Sookie and hurt her a little, how quickly Sam was willing to give up his own blood.

"Fine," she replied. "I'll send along some paperwork, probably with Mr. Cataliades. You remember him."

"Yeah," and Sookie could hear the bitterness in Sam's voice. "Yeah, I remember your trained dog. I'll be looking for him. And Sookie? I don't want you to call me again. I really don't. I'm happy and I want to stay that way. You've never been nothing but trouble for me."

The line disconnected and Sookie sat, stunned, on the bed. She had the outcome she wanted. Sam was signing away any claim to that sweet boy in the room next door and it just made her so angry. How could he turn his back on his child that way? How could he throw away his own flesh and blood? "I'm never telling you what a bastard your father is," Sookie vowed, staring toward the open door that led to her son. "You will never know anything but that you are loved!"

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Mr. Cataliades was dispatched and he returned within the week, all the paperwork signed and sealed. "I will file this. You have sole custody," he informed Sookie.

"Sam threw him away like he was garbage," Sookie sighed.

"You have the best possible outcome for all parties," Mr. Cataliades said diplomatically. He didn't tell Sookie about the angry tirade the Shifter launched, accusing Sookie of trying to pass some other man's child off as his. Sam had said that without a DNA test, there was no way he would believe the child in the photograph was a Merlotte. Sam told the attorney that the last five generations of Merlottes were all ginger-haired babies. If Sookie wasn't asking for a paternity test or money, he wasn't either, and Sam signed the papers and sent the attorney on his way, damning him and Sookie to hell in the process.

Mr. Cataliades was invited to Thanksgiving, and, one week later, their little group was seated around the kitchen table, candles burning and fall leaves decorating the chandelier and buffet. The turkey was brined and roasted to perfection, and Sookie added collards and corn bread to the tradition. Ricky sat in his high chair beside her, fisting turkey and mashed potatoes into his mouth, making noises and pointing.

"It is a night to be thankful!" Fran sighed and, looking around the table, Sookie quite agreed. When Ricky yawned, Sookie lifted him from his chair, and making her excuses, took her boy upstairs for a bath.

"Can I interest you in a Port and some apple pie?" Fran asked the attorney.

Mr. Cataliades helped the witch climb the stairs to the floor that hosted her bedroom. With a wave of her hands, the fireplace and candles in her seating area blazed to life. Handing her into her chair, Mr. Cataliades turned to head downstairs, but Fran laughed. She chanted words and the tray appeared. "What's the good of all that magic if you don't pull it out and show it off sometimes?" she asked.

"Most impressive," the demon bowed.

"But it leaves a hell of a stink," Fran nodded. "Attracts trouble from miles around. Better not to show off too often. I don't need too many people taking notice."

"Magic does have a distinctive smell," and Mr. Cataliades poured glasses for them both. They could hear Sookie singing and the sounds of water. "She is very happy," he sighed. "I am happy for her, and grateful to you. You gave her sanctuary when others would have turned her away."

"Truth is, that little family upstairs has given me a new lease on life," Fran smiled ruefully. "I thought I was pretty well done, but now there's nothing I wouldn't do for that little boy. The sun rises and sets on him, and I never thought I'd say that about another living creature."

It was noticed by everyone who came to the house that Fran had a new bounce to her step. She was more interested in things and her comments included laughter and light. Even Fran's balance seemed to improve, and she made it up and down the stairs several times a day without help. Her hips still ached and her knees cracked and popped, but, for the first time in many years, she walked outside on the sidewalks, accompanying Sookie for walks around the Common, and even going to the occasional baby playdate at the local community center.

Ricky returned the affection. He would smile when his mother came into the room, but he saved his enthusiasm for Fran. He would lift his arms when she walked into view and he always chuckled for her. She received his jarring, open-mouthed kisses and joyfully wiped his drool from her cheek. He pulled her gray hair, and howled when it was bedtime and he was taken from her lap.

"He is a special young man," Mr. Cataliades agreed, "But then, Sookie has always been special."

They sat together and stared at the fire, sipping their wine. Finally, Fran said, "My group was here last week. They are not hearing any more about the troubles."

The attorney nodded, "It would appear a compromise has been found. There is a rumor that the monarchs met and some things were resolved."

"Do you believe it?" Fran didn't look up as she said it, "I'm old, but I've never lived through an all-out war. We've all heard the stories and it was brutal."

"They were fighting the Fae then," the attorney replied. "I don't think a war amongst themselves would have the same level of violence. Vampires tend to keep their killing to contained spaces away from the public eye."

"Doesn't mean they won't take prisoners and rack up the body count," Fran shook her head. "Thank goodness there aren't that many of them, still, it's not like they're discriminating. If there are humans standing too close, they go, too."

"Vampires are thorough," the attorney agreed, "but, as I said, things seem to be cooling."

"How close are you to all of this, Mr. Cataliades?" Fran turned her head, her eyes now seeking his.

"If we're going to have this conversation, I suppose you should call me Desmond," the demon smiled, then leaning back and lacing his fingers over his rounded belly, he said, "I am officially a member of Felipe de Castro's retinue at the moment."

Fran didn't say anything, but her mouth turned down, "That's kind of in the kill zone, isn't it, Desmond? I'd think the King keeps you on a pretty short leash." What she was saying was that most members of a paranoid vampire's retinue were under constant monitoring and surveillance.

"I have a distinct advantage that is not commonly known," Desmond replied with a small, satisfied smile.

"I'm imagining you do," Fran nodded, "but even demons can find themselves running."

"True," the attorney laughed sharply, "and I did find myself in that situation once." He turned to Fran, his face wreathed in smiles, "but it was a witch who put me there, not a vampire!"

"Are you asking for my protection?" Fran's voice was mild.

"I would consider protection from you an honor," Desmond nodded, "but, as I said, the circumstances at the moment do not appear alarming in any particular."

Fran looked back to the fire and smiled as they both heard the sound of Ricky's laughter from upstairs. "Thank goodness for peace," Fran said.

"Thank goodness," Desmond Cataliades agreed.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

For the first time in many years, the brownstone celebrated the Yule season. There were decorations brought out of storage and a special tree gifted from friends who lived near Concord. It arrived in the very early morning tied to the top of a large SUV. There was a stand as well and the tree was carried up, or more lifted up vertically, from the stairs to the library. The central table surface was swung, so it could sit flat against the far wall and the tree was set up, all ten feet of it, in the high-ceilinged room. The very top was tied to nails set near the crown molding by tying fishing line. It was a perfect tree, tall and narrow, it's stiff branches covered with soft, green needles.

Lora and others of Fran's group came to the house one evening for a tree-trimming party. Ricky sat on a blanket on the floor, adored and petted by women as they brought down boxes of antique ornaments from the floors above. Earlier, Sookie had spent hours up on a ladder while her son napped, wrapping string after string of colored and white lights through the branches. Now, the lights were plugged in, so the women could see more clearly where there were holes to be filled. A tall ladder was used for the balls hung high and a step ladder for those hung low. Lora brought small speakers and was streaming Christmas music through her tablet.

Sookie enjoyed herself, running up and down the stairs to carry wine and punch, cookies and cakes, up to the library. The room was a whirl of movement and chatter, and, in the middle, the tree. Sookie stopped at one point to just look at it, tall and sparkling, and Fran came up beside her, encircling the younger woman's waist with her arm. "You coming here has made this old house live again," Fran told her.

"Don't be silly," Sookie hugged Fran back. "I've done nothing but made fuss and noise! Your life is a lot messier now!"

"Life is supposed to be messy," Fran laughed, then nudged Sookie, and looked at the floor. Ricky was sound asleep on his blanket, his fist wrapped around a cloth bird that was meant for the tree. Sookie leaned down to pick him up, "I'll take him downstairs," she said out loud.

Ricky was an unusual child. Everyone said it. He seemed to understand what was going on around him. He rarely cried. He was good-humored and traveled well. He tolerated strangers and even seemed to enjoy new things. He also slept a great deal. Even as a newborn, he only woke once or twice during the night.

Sookie had discussed it with the pediatrician, but other than his sleepiness and the near translucent quality of his skin, no one could find any fault with him. ' _He's a big boy and growing quickly_ ,' was the general explanation. It was true. Ricky was a chunk of a child and Sookie learned that she needed to lift him with her knees, not her back.

When she came back up the stairs to the library, she saw Sean Bailey had joined them. He had a sprig of mistletoe in his hand and he held it over Fran and kissed her cheek. "Well, screw that!" Fran exclaimed, and grabbing Sean's ears, kissed him full on the mouth to the enjoyment of all.

Sean was beaming bright red as the women lined up, each ready for her turn. "You brought it on yourself, bringing that into the house," Fran teased him. Sookie held back, but Fran goaded her, "Don't be such a wimp! Get in line, Miss Fancy Pants!"

When it was Sookie's turn, she felt suddenly shy. Sean was a full head taller than her, and his eyes that had been laughing before turned softer. He gamely held up the sprig, but when he bent his head to touch his lips to hers, Sookie found she was returning the kiss. Startled at her reaction, she stepped back abruptly, and blushing, turned to see Fran watching her closely. "I'll take the empty glasses downstairs," Sookie could hear her voice was tight.

"You do that," Fran said, and Sookie heard her say, "Close your mouth, Sean! You'll catch flies in there!" and it made Sookie blush harder.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

When First Night came, Sean asked Sookie if she'd like to come with him to listen to the music on the Charles River Esplanade and watch the fireworks afterward, and she said yes. They ate with Fran and Ricky, and after Sookie put Ricky to sleep for the night, they let themselves out the front door and walked the short distance to the park that ran along the water.

Sookie glanced behind her a couple times, but Sean said, "Don't worry. If he wakes up, Fran will call you." Sookie knew her son wouldn't wake. He never did, but there was something about being alone with Sean that made her nervous. It wasn't that she didn't like him, she did. What worried Sookie was the reason she was with Sean was because she was lonely and not because she wanted him. It was a difference, but one that mattered with a man as wonderful as this one.

Together they stood on the frozen ground with all the other concert-goers, listening to classical music pouring from the band shell, the notes pure and crisp in the cold night air. Almost as soon as the music stopped, the first of the fireworks bloomed over the river, and Sookie looked up, her mouth open.

As she smiled, her voice saying, "Aaah!" Sean leaned over and placed his lips on hers. It was almost as lovely as the evening he'd brought the mistletoe to the house, and Sookie found she enjoyed kissing him. She was a little embarrassed when he lifted his head, but he grinned broadly and tucked her hand through his arm.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"Yes," Sookie nodded. "A little."

Sean looked disappointed, but he quickly said, "Then let me walk you back. Things will be crazy tomorrow, but maybe you'd let me cook you something special this coming Monday? I have an idea and I'd like your opinion." It was a simple thing to say, but it made Sookie feel special and she nodded.

When they walked up the stairs, Sean waited while Sookie unlocked the door. She turned to say good night, and Sean placed his hands on her waist and pulled her close. His mustache tickled, but his lips were warm. Sookie's hands found their way to hold onto his lapels and she tried to relax into the feeling of this man's arms, but Sookie felt it, the moment she disconnected. The larger part of her protested that this was not right, this was not best.

When Sookie opened her eyes and stepped back, she was surprised by the sharp stab of disappointment she felt. There was no reason for her to feel that way and every reason not to, but there it was, and she ducked her head. "I'm sorry, Sean," she murmured, "It's not you. It's me." Turning, Sookie opened the door and stepped inside. She didn't look at him as she closed the door.

The next evening, Fran asked Sookie if she would like to take a ride to a friend's bookstore. It wasn't far, just a couple stops down on the T, and Sookie said she and Ricky would love to come.

"It's an old student of mine, "Fran explained. "She's published a book and she showed up, asking if she could do an impromptu talk and book signing. I told her I'd come for moral support." When Sookie arrived in Boston, Fran never would have attempted something like this. She was simply too frail and bent with pain. Now this kind of excursion happened more frequently.

Sookie figured since the book store was named, 'Sign of the Cat,' the subject material was likely witchcraft, but this was Boston. No one looked twice at this sort of thing here.

Right after dinner, they bundled up against the cold. Sookie used her baby sling in lieu of the stroller. Ricky was heavy and the sling would make her back ache after a bit, but the stroller just didn't work well on the snowy sidewalks of the City.

Ricky laughed and chirped, so happy to be outside. He loved winter, and his head swiveled this way and that in the hat Lora bought him. It was red and had green on top, knitted to look like the top of a tomato, and, with his bright face, Sookie thought her son looked like a Munchkin from the Wizard of Oz.

He didn't act like one, though. He kept trying to pull his mittens off, and Sookie and Fran had their hands full keeping ahead of him. Ricky clearly thought it was a game because he started watching for when they weren't looking, and then crowed in delight when he tricked them, freeing his hands to the night.

The book event was more crowded than either of the women anticipated, and soon they were feeling overheated. A chair was found for Fran, and Sookie helped her remove first her coat and then Ricky's. As soon as she plopped her son in Fran's lap, the authoress became the second attraction in the shop, the women gravitating to the handsome, laughing child who seemed delighted with everything.

After an hour, Fran announced it was time to head home, and Sookie dutifully helped first Fran and then Ricky get suited up again. It wasn't late, only seven thirty or so, but Ricky was already yawning and becoming increasingly heavy as he started to slide toward slumber. They walked slowly to the T station. It wasn't far away, but as they turned the corner, they walked into a crowd that was cordoned off by police. There were photographers spaced along the sidewalk just ahead. Sookie recognized the façade as one of the exclusive boutique hotels that dotted this section of Boston and she figured they must be expecting celebrities. "Should we go around?" Sookie asked Fran.

"No, let's give it a couple minutes," Fran replied. "Chances are the high and mighty will pull up in a minute, wave, and we can move forward." To walk around would take at least ten minutes and a dark street, so Sookie shrugged and shifted Ricky to a more comfortable position. He was already asleep and she was just adjusting his hat when there was a cheer. Looking up, Sookie could see the limousine pull up to the curb and the door open. What she wasn't prepared for was the sight of Eric Northman unfolding from the backseat. He glanced around and then leaned toward the car. When he straightened up, Freyda was at the end of his hand. She was dressed beautifully in a long white fur coat and she said something as she waved. It must have been to Eric because he grinned, and then he laughed. It was that wonderful, throaty laugh he used to have when Sookie said something he thought was clever. Freyda looked at Eric and Sookie could see the happiness that passed between them.

Sookie felt her knees start to give way, but then there was a shout. Sookie leaned forward along with everyone else as a protester burst through the barricade and threw red paint on Freyda's coat.

Eric moved so quickly, Sookie couldn't register it, and the protester was in Eric's hand, her feet dangling. The police were there then, and Eric released the protester. He turned to Freyda, and the way he leaned toward her, the way he placed his hand against her cheek… Sookie must have made a noise because Eric's head snapped up and Sookie realized he was looking in her direction. She ducked her head as quickly as she could and Fran hissed at her, "Come on! Let's get out of here!"

Eric made sure that Freyda hadn't been injured. His wife wasn't planning on coming with him to this Summit, but she changed her mind at the last minute. She teased him with promises of dancing and after-hours museums, and he told her he'd take her for a flight over the harbor at night. It was a good life, a comfortable life they shared. It wasn't love, but Eric knew now that having those kinds of emotions or attachments for any creature was weakness. This kind of easy friendship was best.

Then he heard it, and, for a split second, he was back in Louisiana. It was something about the tone of the sound, the timbre of the voice, and he immediately looked to find the source of that sound. It had to be her.

He scanned, his eyes searching every face, every head, but he didn't see her. He didn't notice the hooded women walking around the corner or the red-capped boy peeking at him over a shoulder.

When they got home, Sookie walked straight up to her room. She undressed Ricky as carefully as she could, washed him up, and tucked him into bed. All the while, she was holding herself tightly as if she had to keep every emotion within her on a tight rein.

When she had her son settled, she walked into her room and closed the door. She undressed, her fingers trembling. She thought about getting in the shower, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she pulled the covers back and slipped into bed in her underwear, the sweat of her body still cooling, and she shivered for a long while. When she finally warmed, it was worse because then the grief came, and she cried, stuffing her pillow in her mouth to stifle the sound, so she wouldn't wake Ricky.

She cried for the way Eric looked at Freyda and she cried for the way he protected her. She cried for the way his eyes were warm when he looked at the vampire and she cried for the way his laughter was meant for another, but mostly she cried because seeing him had ripped open the small door that guarded the hole where her heart had been. Sookie was reminded that no matter how much she loved her son, how much his life meant to her, she would always be Eric Northman's, and that knowledge burned like ice in her chest.

The next night was Monday, but Sookie called off their usual dinner with Sean. "I'm sick," she explained and asked Sean to just drop by the receipts.

Fran watched her friend with anxious eyes. The witch knew who Eric Northman was, and she knew who he had been to Sookie. Long hours over tea left them with few secrets from each other. What Fran hadn't anticipated was that her friend would re-enter mourning. It was in the line of her shoulder and the sound of her sighs.

Each night, shortly after sundown, Sookie would bundle up Ricky and the two of them would head off to the Common for a walk. Fran asked the first night if they wanted company, but Sookie's fraught face told the story. Sookie was going outside to walk until her sadness was controllable, and she was walking at night because it was when she felt closest to him. She would return after an hour, sometimes more, her eyes haunted. Fran saw in Sookie her own face in those first years after Clare's death, and her heart hurt for a fate so cruel that it would tempt her friend with something that could never be.

The following Monday, Sean came through the back door and his eyes automatically looked toward the stairs. "Sean," Fran said to him. "Sit down. Sookie isn't here yet, and you need to know something about her."

Sean sat, and he smiled easily, but Fran could see him bracing. "What is it?" he asked.

"You need to let her go," Fran told him. When he opened his mouth to protest, Fran held up her hand, "Look, I think the world of Sookie. I love her and Ricky like they were my own. I like you, too, and that's why I don't want to see you hurt."

"Why do you think she'd hurt me?" Sean was skeptical and he didn't bother to hide it. "Sookie is a grown woman and I am not some young stud. I know what I'm doing."

"You think you do," Fran nodded, "And if things were different, I'd step back and let you bruise your heart from now until Sunday, but there's something about her you should know. I'm guessing you know that Sookie had a sweetheart, but what you don't know is that sweetheart was a vampire. Now, I don't think she was his pet or anything like that. In truth, I think that their relationship was extraordinarily close and complex."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sean sat back, unhappy now.

"You know a bit about Supernaturals. I don't know if you've ever met a woman who was kept by a vampire, but I have. Sean, they're never quite the same. They get released for whatever reason. Usually it's because they grow older and the attraction fades. That wasn't what happened with Sookie and her vampire. It was more complicated than that, but there is something I do know about all of this. They come back to their lives, these women like Sookie, but they are never really able to reclaim themselves."

"You're saying Sookie is what? Some kind of Renfield?" and Sean stood up, running his hand through his hair.

"No, I'm not saying she's in thrall. I'm saying that the connection that holds her to this vampire can't be broken. I'm sorry. You deserve better, you both do, but I don't want you to look for more than she can give," and Fran sighed and clasped her hands. "I wish I didn't feel this way, but I can see what's happening with you and it isn't fair. She can never be free of him, Sean. It's not a choice. It's just the way it is."

When Sookie came in, Sean helped her with Ricky. He was kind to her, and they walked through their Monday night like any other Monday night. They were friendly and pleasant. Sean cooked and Sookie cleaned up. Ricky went to bed early, the three of them sat at the table playing cards and talking quietly about events in the city. Never once did Sookie's eyes light up to his. She didn't laugh in her light-hearted way at the jokes or stories. It was the same people around the table, but, for Sean, everything was different.

When it came time to say goodnight, he saw how Sookie hung back. He didn't know what had happened, but he could see something had.

He walked home alone down the streets and thought about the beautiful woman who kept so many secrets. He reasoned with himself that pursuing a relationship with her would be an exercise in futility. He told himself he deserved better. He reminded himself that living the bachelor life had many advantages. He talked to himself the whole way back to his apartment, and didn't notice the two still figures who stood on the corner, their coats open, not noticing the cold at all.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Eric escorted Freyda into the hotel before returning to the lobby to give a statement to the police. They warned him the protester might file a lawsuit against him for manhandling her, but Eric knew that wouldn't happen. His bodyguards had her scent. She would wake up tomorrow morning bruised and battered, but with no memory of what happened, or why she should be angry with Eric Northman. Glamour was a good thing.

Freyda's companion was with her when he arrived at the suite. It was pleasant, traveling to this city. The hotel gave each guest a full floor of the converted residence. There were all the amenities and a concierge who arranged anything they wished. "I suppose it's hopeless!" his wife pouted. The coat was in the companion's arms and the concierge was also looking at it, his mouth pursed.

"It is some kind of oil-based paint, Madame," the concierge said. "I can make a call to an expert I know, but, unfortunately, I have had experience in these matters and the fur will never be quite the same."

Freyda groaned as she stroked an undamaged part, "I loved this coat! Always so warm and it made me look spectacular!"

"You don't need a coat to look spectacular," Eric assured her. It was a little thing, saying the compliments that made any life easier. They both knew there was an element of insincerity, but the courtesy was appreciated.

"Why do you think she did it?" Freyda asked, watching the coat heading out the door in the arms of her companion. "Do you think someone paid her?"

"If I may," the concierge bowed, "Boston has an active PETA community…"

"PETA?" Freyda grimaced.

"Animal Protection people. They were not protesting you. They were protesting your coat," and the concierge bowed again before saying, "Is there anything I can arrange to help you recover from such a shock? Boston is a wonderful city and it grieves me that this should be your welcome here."

"Donors," Freyda sniffed. "At least three. I want to sample and relax." She glanced at Eric, "You'll join me?"

"If you'd like," Eric smiled tightly.

"My companion will give you the particulars," Freyda told the waiting concierge, and when he left and the door shut, she looked at her consort. He had moved to the window and was looking down into the street. "What is it?" she asked. "Something is bothering you. Do you think there will be trouble here?"

Eric realized his thoughts had gone far away. It was unlike him to be distracted, and he schooled his face before turning back to Freyda, "No, I don't." He assured her. "If I thought there was a danger here, I would have asked you not to come."

Freyda unfolded from her chair. She was an elegant woman, and Eric could tell that her concern was honest. "Then what is it, Eric? I can tell there's something."

"I am distracted," he confessed, and he took her hand and pulled her close. They didn't actually touch. Vampires didn't like physical contact unless there were other inducements like feeding and fucking, but standing close was comforting. "Karin is in the City for the Summit. If you wouldn't mind, I'll touch base with her just to get the lay of the land. Once I have her report, I'll stop fretting."

"You are a handsome man," Freyda smiled up at her consort, "but fretting is not your best look. Don't worry about knocking when you return. I won't keep them overnight and I would like to rise with you."

"You are sure you don't wish me to stay? The coat? It was a shock. I can see Karin tomorrow…" Eric hoped against hope that Freyda would not ask it of him, and, once again, he was pleased with her ability to read him.

"Don't be silly!" she laughed. "I'm intend to enjoy myself and I know you don't appreciate these mixed parties. Take care of your business, Eric. I'll be here when you're ready," and she pulled him down just a little so she could kiss his cheek. She was a tall woman, taller than those he generally preferred, and he found his thoughts rushing to compare hers to another blond whose head had fit so perfectly against his chest. It had been months since he had last exchanged blood with Freyda and Eric was profoundly grateful that his Queen couldn't read him that closely anymore.

Eric swung out of his hotel. He called Karin on his cell and then took to the skies to get to her more quickly. She wasn't far, only a few streets over, and she was waiting for him on the sidewalk.

"Welcome to Boston, My Maker," she bowed rather formally. Eric noticed there were other vampires around and rightly guessed they were standing in front of the hotel where the Summit would be held. 

"Your travel here was uneventful?" Eric asked.

"Yours wasn't," Karin answered. Eric wasn't surprised that the news of Freyda's attack was already known. Vampires were inveterate gossips and the doings of their small community was a source of endless fascination for them.

"The hotel people think it was an animal activist," Eric shrugged. "It had nothing to do with Freyda or us."

"Humans," Karin sniffed. "They fight for stupid things. Animals fighting for other animals!" and she didn't bother to hide her disdain.

"How are things here?" Eric asked, and he wondered how he could work this conversation around to what he really wanted to know.

"The preparations for the Summit are well in hand," Karin smiled briefly. "Our booth is prepared and the retinue understands their duties. The ball will feature several dances your Queen prefers. I handled it myself. The City itself is excited about hosting vampires. There are fans here. You may be approached to sign autographs or take pictures. I have alerted the bodyguards and they will be prepared."

"Nothing else…unusual?" and Eric wondered at his hesitation.

"Unusual?" Karin's face gave nothing.

"I thought I heard someone," Eric leaned forward, speaking in a low hiss, "Tonight, outside my hotel. Someone from my past."

Karin's eyes widened and Eric felt her surprise, but there was something else behind that surprise, something she quickly hid as she said, "You think an old enemy is tracking you?"

"No!" and in his frustration, Eric took her arm, and said the name that was on his lips every night as he fell into his day death, "Sookie! Sookie Stackhouse. Is she here? Is this where she went?"

Karin's shock appeared real and she shook her arm a little until her Maker released her. "I have no idea, Eric," she hissed in return. "I can see this has you agitated, so I'll check into it."

Eric ran his hand through his hair and he seemed to recover himself. "It's not a priority," he told her. "I just want to know."

"It will be as you say," his daughter assured him, and then she took him inside and walked him through the exhibitors' hall and the meeting rooms. After he left, Karin called the two bodyguards she trusted most and she had them meet her in her room.

"I want you to locate someone," she told them. "She's here in the City. Don't approach her, but I want to know where she lives and what she does." She provided the address of the restaurant where she'd last seen Sookie and a piece of the telepath's clothing that she kept in a Ziploc bag.

It wasn't that Karin believed Sookie would approach her Maker. The fact was that, of the two of them, Karin trusted Sookie to keep to the contract. It was Eric whom Karin didn't trust. She wasn't particularly close to him now, but ever since Sookie had left, Karin had spent more time doing special jobs for her Maker, like serving as point for this Summit.

Karin believed in being prepared, and the idea of Sookie and Eric together, in the same city at the same time, made her nerves tingle.

Once the bodyguards left, Karin sat back in her room enjoying a warmed Royalty, wondering whether it would be kinder to just tell Eric that his obsession had destroyed her body with some human's whelp, but she knew it wouldn't be welcome. No one appreciated the messenger who bore bad news. No, better by far to keep Sookie Stackhouse under watch and do what was necessary to keep the two of them as far apart as possible.


	6. Chapter 6 - Gavotte

Chapter 6 – Gavotte

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Sookie wasn't sure what had made her scan the area. It had been weeks since she'd felt the need, but as she stood under the bare trees of the Common, the sky as dark as it ever became stretching above her, she kneeled in front of Ricky, took his cold hand in hers, closed her eyes, reached all around them, and there they were. There were two of them. They were close enough to see her.

Sookie stood, trying not to panic. She made a show of fussing over Ricky's mittens and used her movements to look around her. They were near the street, standing in the shadow of a statue. She could see their slight glow. She couldn't read them, although she had no doubt they were watching her.

Ricky looked up at her and Sookie kept a smile on her face, trying not to let the natural link existing between them transmit her fear. She thought about what to do and headed to Sean's restaurant. It would be busy, but he would help. Above all, she couldn't lead these strangers to her home.

While she moved, she confirmed the two voids were moving, too, pacing her. They didn't enter the park. Instead, they walked parallel to her and a little bit back, leaving the iron fence between them. Sookie wasn't fooled. They were vampires, and it would be no problem for them to vault over the six-foot barricade if they wanted her. She could see the opening closest to the restaurant. It took everything to keep her pace slow and constant, a woman walking with her child under the stars. The restaurant windows were shining and Sookie checked to make sure the vampires hadn't closed the space between them. They hadn't.

There were several people standing near the front desk awaiting tables. Sookie realized she must look odd. Women with strollers didn't come here at this time of night, but the hostess recognized her. "I need to see Sean," Sookie whispered. "Can I go back to the office?"

The young girl looked confused, but she said, "Sure, Susan. Look, it's pretty busy. Can you collapse that stroller and carry him?" and she looked at Ricky who was looking at her, his face all round blue eyes.

The girl lent a hand and they inched through the crowded restaurant, heading for the back. The door was closed and the girl knocked twice. Sean looked irritated after the door opened, but then he saw Sookie. "Susan? What are you doing here?" he asked. There must have been something on her face because, in the next breath, he said, "Thanks, Moira. I have this. Go back out front," and he stepped around the desk to take the stroller from the girl's hands.

"Come on," Sean gestured to the chair and shut the door. Once Sookie was seated, he said, "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on?"

"I'm being followed," Sookie figured she was being stupid, blurting it out, but she was so tense she couldn't hold it any more. What was more embarrassing, as soon as the words left her mouth, she felt tears spill over her cheeks. Ricky twisted in her lap and his lip started to quiver. That was all Sookie needed to pull it together. She smiled weakly at her son and then, swallowing, said, "I need to call Fran. She'll know what to do."

"Why don't I just walk you home?" Sean asked.

"They can't know where I live," Sookie told him.

"Do you know who they are?" and Sean sat on the edge of his desk, looking at the red-nosed woman bravely making faces to entertain her boy.

"I don't," she admitted, "but I know what they are," then she looked up.

"Trouble?" Sean asked.

"Vampires," Sookie nodded.

"Why don't you give me that young man?" Sean asked. He smiled broadly, picking Ricky up from her lap. "You remember me, don't you, boy-o?" he said in a broad Irish accent, and he lifted Ricky high and used his nose the tickle the child's belly. Ricky laughed and grabbed Sean's hair, and Sookie used the distraction to pull her phone out of her pocket.

A few minutes later, Sookie walked out the back door with Sean and Ricky. Fran assured them that no one would be able to detect them for hours. She had placed a cloaking spell on them and they could come home safely. "Just don't get in an accident," Fran warned Sookie. "No one will realize you're lying on the sidewalk. You'll be virtually invisible to every sense."

After they walked into the kitchen, Fran turned to Sookie, "Well, I'd say that should put an end to these night walks of yours!"

"It was foolish," Sookie nodded, and then, overwrought, she collapsed on the floor next to Fran's chair, put her head in the older woman's lap, and cried. Sean didn't know what to do. Ricky, who one minute was watching everything around him, suddenly dissolved into whooping sobs as well.

Fortunately, it was Lora's night to help, so she walked forward and scooped the hysterical child from Sean's arms. "Let me take this one upstairs!" and she started talking to the infant, holding him closely as she took him from the room.

Fran stroked Sookie's back. "Now, now. All's well," she assured her. Looking at Sean, she said, "You have a minute, or do you need to get back?"

Sean glanced at his watch. "I really do need to go," he told the witch. "Give me a call later." He hesitated, but couldn't bring himself to say anything to Susan. She was still crying, her shoulders shaking. With a last nod, he headed back out the door, leaving the women to themselves.

Lora came back downstairs after a bit. Sookie had stopped crying, but she remained on the floor. Fran stroked her hair, allowing the younger woman to recover from her shock.

"Well, get off the floor then!" Lora sniffed. "I'll make us some tea and we'll figure out what to do."

Sookie realized that in the minutes she'd spent on her knees, her legs had gotten stiff. She swayed a little, then pulled herself onto the chair. "I don't know what came over me," she apologized.

"It's been a difficult week," Fran soothed. "You saw Northman, and you can't tell me that wasn't one hell of a jolt. There are vampires in town and now you've been followed. I think you're entitled to a panic attack."

"Well," Sookie laughed weakly, "when you put it like that…"

"Do you think they were watching you?" Lora asked.

"I'm sure of it," Sookie nodded, biting her lip. "They followed me, but they held back."

"Well, they'll be in trouble when they go back to report," Fran chuckled. Then, looking more serious, she said, "Lora? Go get my phone. Let's call our inside man and find out if anything's going on at Vampire Central that we should know about."

"Inside man?" Sookie asked.

"Desmond," Fran said absently, "you know, your attorney?" In a few minutes, Fran was speaking with Mr. Cataliades, and then she handed the phone to Sookie.

"Sookie? You are all right?" the attorney asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. They never approached us. They were following me, though. Any idea who they are?"

"No," he told her, "but I'll check around. The Summit ends tomorrow and everyone will be leaving, which is all for the better. I'll call you back tomorrow."

When the call came, the news was mixed. "I wasn't able to determine who gave the order to have you followed," he told Sookie, "but your name is being whispered around the Summit. There's a rumor you're in Boston and Felipe de Castro has heard it. On the other hand, there is no talk or thought about extending our time here to find you," the attorney assured her. Sookie knew Mr. Cataliades could read vampires. It wasn't something he shared around, but Sookie trusted the attorney had spent time scanning every vampire he could find.

"It leaves the question of who sent those two," Sookie said to Fran as they started pulling lunch together later. Ricky had been fractious all morning, an unusual mood for him, and the women were ready to eat and put the little man down for a nap.

"Is it possible your vampire recognized you the other night?" Lora asked. She had returned today, even though, technically, it was her day off. They all knew it was because decisions needed to be made and Lora wanted her say.

"He's not my vampire," Sookie shook her head. "And I doubt it. Hell, even if he was curious, there's a big old contract that tells him he has to stay well away from me! If there's one thing I know about Eric, it's that he's a real stickler about contracts," and Sookie was aware of how bitter she sounded.

"The fact is, someone sent them," Fran nodded. "They saw you and they followed you, so someone knows you're here."

"You don't think they were just hunting?" Lora asked hopefully.

"It's possible," Fran looked thoughtful.

"I don't want to think about that for even one second!" Sookie exclaimed, scooping her son off the floor and taking him to his highchair. "But no, I don't. There was something about it. They were trailing me and taking care not to be seen. They had their opportunity to split up and cut me off. They didn't."

"So, we're left with the fact that someone knows you're here." Fran nodded.

Sookie spooned the spinach into her son's open mouth, "Even if they don't do anything about it, they know where they can come and find us later." Sookie reached over and brushed back her son's white-blond hair. It was growing longer and less fine, but Sookie was holding off on a haircut until Ricky was one.

The telepath didn't have to say it. Lora did, "You have to leave the city."

Fran nodded, "There are too many people here. You can't be looking over your shoulder every moment." Fran's eyes were fastened on Ricky who was alternately eating and fussing, "And what about when he starts school?"

Lora smiled at Fran as she circled her arm around Sookie's shoulder, "You have a plan."

"I do," Fran nodded. "I have that place in Chester. I don't think they even believe in vampires yet. It's a small town and the folks who live there all the time are a close group. All they have are schools, which are of no interest to vampires, and the artists in the summer. I don't think there's a light-tight room in the whole town. It's quiet and off the grid."

Sookie looked at her son, imagining what it would be like to grow up in a place like Chester, and the picture she was seeing in her mind felt good. "It would be the ideal place to raise a child," Lora echoed Sookie's thoughts.

"New England folks can be a little stand-offish, but they all know me and they knew my family," Fran said. "They'll see you in the house with me and they'll take you into their hearts. Won't find a more loyal, caring community anywhere, and they'll watch your back."

"Well, it's all fine and good," Sookie sighed, "but I won't have any work there. It's not like Sean can ship me his receipts, and I remember the town. There's not much going on. I can't be living out there and not have some way to pay my own way." Sookie wiped her son's mouth before turning to Fran, "You said it yourself, just heating that place in winter costs a fortune."

"So turn it into a B&B," Lora suggested. "I've been telling Fran for years that she should do it. With all those schools, the parents are always visiting. The closest hotel is miles away. There's only one other place in town that offers rooms and Fran's house is perfect."

"You'd have to figure out the housekeeping, and those folks expect tea in the afternoon and breakfast before they leave," Fran said. "Most of them are rich and entitled, and that will be a cramp in the ass, but you'd make enough to pay the taxes, the utilities, and have plenty left over."

"You'd do that?" Sookie asked.

"You'd be doing me a favor," Fran told her. "Cover the bills and I'm ahead. Plus, I don't have to worry about the place sitting vacant most of the year."

"I'd want to pay you something," Sookie bit her lip.

"Shut the place down for the summer, so I can come out there whenever I want and we'll call it even," Fran told her. "I also want rooms available the first week in May every year because I'm coming out for my godson's birthday."

Sookie didn't trust herself to speak. She knew about running a restaurant, and she knew how to keep a house. She was sure there were things she'd need to learn, but the possibility of living full time in that picture-perfect little town with its quaint houses and tidy green was a dream come true.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

There were no movers needed. Sean offered to drive them, but the women declined. It was decided that once Sookie moved, Fran would cast a spell that would wipe her from the memories of those who had met her. Rae, the doctor who still examined Ricky, was on the list. Sean Bailey was as well.

"It's for their own protection as much as yours," Fran assured Sookie. "If they don't know where you are, then no one will be motivated to torture them." Sookie wasn't quite sure that was true, but when she looked at her son's face and considered what his life might be like as a hostage to vampires, the decisions became easier.

Sarah was waiting for them when they pulled up, the driveway and sidewalks already shoveled. Sookie had never seen so much snow and she was dazzled by it. The fields and woods that had been so lush and green were now bare, but no less lovely, covered in deep drifts of white.

"How long will the snow be around?" she asked Sarah.

"It can stick around well into April," Sarah shrugged. "The old-timers won't even put tomatoes in until Memorial Day."

That afternoon the contractor walked through the house, making suggestions that would best convert the rooms. Two more bathrooms would be installed on the second floor and a bathroom would be added to the third floor as well. The downstairs bedroom that Fran used would be expanded into more of an apartment and Sookie and Ricky would live there for most of the year. When he finished, he sat down at the table, and Lora handed him a cup of coffee. The next hour was spent dickering over prices and schedules. Sarah reminded him she'd changed his diapers while Fran told him stories about his grandmother that had him laughing. It was agreed that the work would be completed in two weeks, and that Sookie and Ricky would live with Sarah until everything was ready.

"And don't think I won't track you down if you disappear to another worksite," Fran warned him. "There's no place you can hide from me! Ask your father!"

"Well, you're not going for any of that crazy custom stuff," the contractor laughed. "I can start day after tomorrow. If I have a problem with one of my guys becoming available, I'll let you know."

"If you have a problem with one of your guys becoming available, you give me their name," Sarah looked serious. "There's not one of these boys I don't know and most of them owe me. This job needs to be done quick. This little boy," and she pointed at Ricky who was watching everyone in his quiet, thoughtful way, "needs a good home, and I aim to give him one as good as any of you got," and she leaned over the table. "Don't think I'm going to let some foolishness get in the way!"

"You know I'll pass it along," the contractor nodded, and they all shook hands.

Fran and Lora left the next day and Sookie moved into Sarah's spare bedroom. The room was crowded with the crib and Ricky's things and, that first night, Sookie sat in bed, wondering if she was doing the right thing.

The contractor started work as promised, and with very little effort, Sookie settled into a routine. Sarah's twin sons, Seth and Peter, adopted Ricky as their new play toy. They rolled him balls and pulled faces that made him laugh. In no time, the infant knew what time the boys left in the morning and what time they returned in the afternoon. He watched for them, making sounds that were uniquely theirs, and the boys nicknamed him "Chub." "He's built like a brick!" Peter exclaimed. "Have you lifted that kid? He weighs a ton!"

Sookie came to understand that there were really four towns in Chester; there was the town she saw that was centered around the Town Hall and the small green, and then there were the separate towns that were the three private schools. One of the schools, Grayson, taught children from first to sixth grade. Much like the other two, children were sent here to board. Sookie thought about what it had been like to move in with her Gran after her parents died. She wondered if that's what it was like for these children, living so far from home.

The second school, Chester Academy, taught students in the sixth grade through twelfth. The students wore uniforms and there was a religious tradition, although the school didn't dictate religious beliefs. There was a beautiful chapel on the grounds with a bell that rang every hour until midnight, and then picked up at six the next morning.

The third school, Morris-Tabor, was more of a traditional high school, but it boasted a rigorous college preparatory program that guaranteed its students consideration at the country's top universities. While all the schools offered sports programs, Morris was the one that emphasized it and they hosted teams from other schools in competitions that spilled into the town on weekends.

At each of the schools, there was staff who lived on campus in housing provided for them. Their lives rotated around their school. Of course, they came into town to buy things like groceries and small gifts, much as the students and their parents did when they visited, but there was a clear separation between townspeople and academics.

It was just understood. If you were part of the school, that was your primary community. Teachers and administrators socialized amongst themselves and the amount of wealth the families of the students represented guaranteed that the interests and activities of both the teachers and the students were vastly different than the families who called Chester their home. The teachers were often part of their students' lives and Sookie would overhear them talking about their latest trip to Europe or a field trip planned to some national park. She wondered about it sometimes, the difference that money could make for two people who lived so close to each other. Other times she worried about what it would mean for Ricky when he found himself in school with children who would have access to experiences he never would.

Once she was ready to open, Sookie dutifully met with the Headmaster or Headmistress of each school. She offered tours of the B&B and prepared samples of the breakfasts her guests might expect. She confirmed hours, rates, and had to provide references, but once the school people were convinced, the email booking site came to life, and Sookie found she had a full house until the end of the school year.

With each day, Sookie found that her place as a townsperson became more established. She felt it the first time the man who ran the small hardware store called her by name, and when she had a casual inquiry about Miss Fran's health from the woman at Town Hall. The snow continued to fall and Sookie's neighbors taught her the lessons of New England. She learned to brush ice from her bushes, so they wouldn't break, and to not shovel all the way to the pavement since it would only melt and refreeze.

Night fell early, and Sookie found her evenings stretched unimaginably long and lonely after Ricky went to bed. She found herself staring out the window of her apartment, looking into a night sky with more stars than she ever remembered seeing. It was inevitable that her thoughts turned to Eric Northman. She thought of his blond perfection, and the way he'd tease her and shake his world-class ass in that sexy dance he had. She thought of the feel of him under her hands. She thought of the way his eyes would soften when he called her clever. At night, she used her fingers and memories of his lovemaking to find completion, and when the house was empty except for Ricky, she'd let herself call out his name when she came.

Her solitude felt like a friend but, over time, that changed. At first, she declined any invitations that came her way. After almost a month, though, Sookie allowed herself to be lured into helping out at the Library fundraiser. A few days later, Sarah guilted Sookie into joining the Chester Baby Playgroup with Ricky, reminding her that any normal child needed socialization. Once she attended a couple sessions, there was no turning back. The parents took their children to the town events, and they asked after Ricky. There was a small parade to honor some long-dead town leader and then there was the "End of Winter Bonfire." At each event, it was Ricky's smiling face that drew people toward them, and before the Patriot's Day Celebration, Sookie realized she spent as many evenings out as she did at home. She had become a 'townie.'

Aside from the social aspects, Sookie found that by being a full-time resident, Ricky would be attending the private schools in town. In fact, Chester didn't even have its own public school. Instead, it had a special waiver from the state that recognized the Town's special relationship with the private academies and it paid a stipend for each child to attend.

Sookie wondered why there weren't more families interested in moving to Chester. It seemed so ideal. "It's because we're snobs," Sarah explained. "Anyone who wants to buy land or real estate here has to be voted on by the whole town. Twice a year we get together at the Town Hall, all of us, and we govern this place through a Town Meeting. Everyone gets a say on everything."

"You've met us," Sarah winked. "We're not the easiest bunch of folks to get along with, and there's usually someone in town who won't like you just because you're a newcomer, so almost no one gets approved unless they have family or someone from here to vouch for them."

"You're kidding!" Sookie exclaimed. "Don't you worry about getting sued?"

"Bring it on," Sarah shrugged. "Besides, we don't really have much of anything that would attract outside folks. No big box stores. No transportation. No thriving night life. We get artists who come here from time to time, and once we had a big Hollywood type who thought he could buy his way in. Boy, did he get shot down fast!" and she laughed.

"Still," and Sookie shook her head, "It just seems wrong."

"Look at it this way," Sarah smiled. "You've been to the schools to introduce yourself and get your name on their referral list. Did you get a good look at those kids? Each one of those children can walk around town and go out into the fields and woods around here, just like any other kid because of how close we are. If you're a stranger, we know right away. No one and nothing escapes notice and, because of that, those kids get as normal a childhood as they could ever expect, without having guards and flunkies following them around."

Thinking of the children almost made up for the sense of unfairness that Sookie felt about things, and as the days passed, she came to appreciate the security the town provided more and more. Sookie moved back into the house, and just before Spring break, she had her first guests. Ricky was crawling and starting to pull himself up by holding onto things. It was clear he was mere days away from taking his first steps, and Sookie found she needed Sarah to help out making breakfasts in the morning since a second set of hands was essential with an active baby around. Together, the women worked out the best menus and their own way of moving around the kitchen. They used one of the formal sitting rooms as the guest dining room and the other as a guest lounge.

Sarah suggested using the walls to exhibit the work of resident artists and soon, Sookie was earning small commissions from the sales she made.

When Ricky's first birthday came, Fran and Lora drove out and together they went to the town green to watch the annual May Day celebrations. There were Morris Dancers and a Maypole dance. Sookie helped cook pancakes for the whole town in a makeshift field kitchen and everywhere there were people singing and dancing.

The music here was something Sookie hadn't anticipated. It seemed there were an unusual number of townspeople who played some kind of instrument. There were fiddlers and mandolin players. The woman who ran the post office played a concertina and Sarah's twins were learning banjo. It wasn't unusual to walk around a corner and hear someone playing that unique blend of country and acoustic instruments that folks here just called traditional music.

Bowing to the spirit of the day, the women wore willow branch crowns and had made a small one for Ricky, who promptly demonstrated his walking ability by throwing it in front of him, then scampering after it.

The day was sunny and bright. There was still a slight nip in the wind and the ground was cold under their feet. People waved and smiled, and a teenage girl whom Sookie knew asked if she could take Ricky to do the Maypole dance. Soon the smiling child was being passed around, his face reflecting his joy.

"He is a special boy," Fran squeezed Sookie's arm.

"He's so happy here," Sookie agreed.

"You are, too," Lora observed.

Sookie nodded, "I am. I've feel like I've started a new phase of my life."

"And what would that be?" Fran asked her.

"My 'Ricky's Mommy' phase," Sookie replied, and hugging Fran, she said, "and it feels good."

 **xxxXXXxxx**

So it seemed that ten years passed in the blink of an eye.

For many years, Ricky thought the town's May Day celebration was his own private birthday celebration, and Fran and Lora came every year to help him keep that illusion.

Along the way, there were milestones that Sookie thought of as turning points.

There was the day Sookie received a call from Ricky's second grade teacher. Ricky was telling his classmates that his father was a spy, which was why no one knew who he was. "I don't know what to tell him," the teacher sighed over the phone. "I thought you should know."

Sookie called Fran in a panic. She wasn't sure what she should tell Ricky, but it was clear that not telling him anything was not keeping the questions at bay.

"What do you think you should say to him?" Fran asked.

"I really don't want to tell him about Sam," Sookie sighed. "How do I tell him his Father is someone I didn't love enough to stay with? How do I…"

"How do you keep telling yourself such an obvious lie?" Fran snapped.

"What are you talking about?" Sookie asked.

"That boy is not Sam Merlotte's, and you know it!" Fran growled. "Shit, Sookie! You are a smart woman about so many things. How can you be so stupid about this?"

"Well," Sookie sat down heavily in her kitchen chair, "There was no one else."

"Sure, there was," Fran chuckled. "It's rare, but it's not unheard of. Legend mostly, but anyone who looks at that boy knows he's Eric Northman's."

"That's a cruel thing to say," Sookie choked.

"Truth can be," Fran agreed, "but take a minute for the shock to wear off. You know I'm right and when you catch your breath, you're going to realize how happy you are about this."

Sookie sat very still. She breathed deeply and thought about what Fran was telling her. She saw her son's face and she thought of Eric's, and it was as if blinders fell from her eyes. "Oh, shit," she sighed.

"He was always going to need to be protected," Fran said in the silence. "What you have to consider is whether you will make it okay for your son to go find his father."

"Eric will never believe it," Sookie sighed. "He'll think it's a trick."

"You could have him examined by someone who knows what they're doing," Fran said helpfully. "There are a few Supe doctors out there who could verify things."

"I know one," Sookie sighed again. "Amy Ludwig. I'm pretty sure I know how to get in touch with her, but I'm also pretty sure that if she finds out, others will, too." Sookie thought about it, "Look, there's no reason for anyone outside of us to know. There's nothing about him on the outside that looks different. If that changes, then I'll figure it out."

"What about your vampire?" Fran asked. "Don't you think he should know?"

"Eric belongs to someone else," Sookie said. "Ricky is all I have," and although it was not a good answer, it was the only one Sookie wanted to consider.

That night when Ricky came home, Sookie told him about his daddy. She told Ricky how she met him and how his daddy courted her. She told him about how smart his daddy was and strong and brave. "You look just like him," she told her son, and, with her new eyes, Sookie could see how true her words were.

"Where is he?" Ricky asked.

"He's dead, Honey," Sookie told him, and that was the truth, too.

In retrospect, the change in Ricky almost seemed to link back to that conversation.

The next year Ricky was playing lacrosse on the school team. He had always been stronger and bigger than most of his peers and he ran faster as well. His play in other years was generous, but, this year, the coaches told the boys to get aggressive, and Ricky seemed to take it to heart. During the opening game, he checked his opponent hard and the kid hit the ground like he'd been struck by a car. The kid broke his arm and was out for the rest of the season. Everyone said it was an accident, but Ricky dropped out of lacrosse after that and refused to play any more team sports.

The twins convinced Ricky to try track, and it became the boy's excuse to take off for hours at a time, running the trails through the woods. It made Sookie nervous and, when he would disappear, she would scan the trees, making sure she kept track of him and any other beings out there he might encounter. One day it was turning to afternoon and Ricky had been gone longer than usual. Sookie left the serving of afternoon tea in Sarah's capable hands and took off down the trail toward where she could sense her son. When she reached the clearing, she couldn't see him and she had a moment of panic, but then she looked up.

Ricky was sitting high above her, his feet dangling from a branch of the tree. For one, mad, moment, Sookie thought he had inherited Eric's gift of flight and had flown up there. She resisted the urge to yell at him, afraid of startling him.

"Oh, Hi, Mom," he called down, as if it was the most normal thing.

"What are you doing up there, Son?" Sookie asked, struggling to keep her voice calm.

"Oh," he shrugged, "I do this all the time. I like to think up here," and, with no hesitation, Ricky started down the tree, dropping from branch to branch. Sookie's heart was in her mouth the whole time, waiting for his hand to slip or his foot to miss the branch, but he didn't. He jumped down the remaining six feet and landed lightly, and Sookie wondered again how he'd made the leap to the branch overhead.

Walking home, Sookie said, "I don't like you doing that, Ricky. What would happen if you were alone in the woods and you were hurt? How would we know to get you help?"

"You'd know," he said, and then Ricky touched his forehead, "You'd know because you can hear me." Sookie had never discussed her telepathy with Ricky. From time to time, she probed him, looking for signs that he, too, was telepathic, but she'd never had any inkling that her son had inherited her gift, and she was grateful. Sookie bit her lip and turned to ask her son how he knew, but he stopped, and his eyebrow lifted in a way that was the mirror of his father's. "What? You think I'm stupid?" he challenged. When Sookie didn't answer, he shook his head, and walked ahead of her. "I've known forever," he answered her unasked question.

"Can you read my thoughts?" she asked for the first time aloud.

"No," he shook his head, "but I don't need to be in your head to know what you're thinking most times."

"What about other people?" Sookie asked.

"Nope," and then Ricky grinned, "not yet."

When he entered fourth grade, Ricky told his mother he was no longer a baby, and he didn't want to be called by a baby's name. From that day forward, he was to be called Rick. It was everything Sookie could do not to laugh at first. He was taller, but still shorter than her. He had avoided the rounding out that many of his peers were experiencing. He was still running and if he was climbing trees, he took care, so his mother didn't catch him.

As he sat at the dinner table, Sookie noticed that his face was becoming leaner, the roundness of his cheeks thinning out. He was engrossed in a math exercise and, as usual, didn't ask nor need her help. Rick was at the top of his class, but he finished his work with such an easy arrogance that it made the teachers hold him to a higher standard than the other kids.

As winter approached, Rick started offering his services around town. He mowed lawns and hauled brush. He helped clean out basements and stacked firewood. He pocketed every cent. "What are you working toward?" Sookie asked him.

"I haven't decided yet," was his standard answer.

Then, one day in late October, he came down the street hauling a used kayak. The paddle and life jacket were in it. He wanted to test it on the river right away, but there had been rain and Sookie convinced him to wait for the water level to drop. Fortunately, she was saved by an early snowstorm and there were no more opportunities to test out the kayak that season. The twins helped Rick take the kayak into the barn out back and Sookie thought her worrying was over until spring.

What she hadn't counted on was that Rick would have money left over and that he would buy a sled. It was really more of a toboggan, but it was smaller and could be manhandled by one person. As soon as the ground was covered, Rick headed off into the woods. There were some of the kids from town with him and Sookie felt better, knowing her son wasn't alone.

It was just starting to get dark when one of the kids ran up on the porch and banged on the door. They had found an old abandoned barn and between the boy's gasps, Sookie gathered her son had taken his sled up on the sloped side roof and used it as a ski jump. The toboggan had gone up and her son had come down. He was hurt and the kids needed help bringing him home.

Sookie bundled her clothes on and hurried down the trail. It was slow going in the snow, but they could still see the trail the boys had left earlier. They weren't too far from the house when they came upon the rest of the boys dragging a sled. Ricky was on it, his pale face pinched in pain.

The doctor from Morris-Tabor came out to the house. Rick's leg was broken, so they all bundled into the doctor's car and took the ride over to the school infirmary. Ricky spent the rest of the winter in a cast, and Sookie was guilt-struck at how grateful she felt that her son's wings had been clipped.

It was during the follow-up visit that the doctor mentioned that Rick was anemic. Since the accident, Rick had started to tire more easily and he seemed to sleep more, but Sookie had written it off to the demands of his healing body. "No, it's more than that," the doctor told her. "I'm prescribing an iron supplement, and we should monitor him on a regular basis."

The next shoe fell during Rick's dental exam; the hygienist took x-rays of Rick's emerging canines. What the film showed were fangs, there was no other word to describe them.

"It's a rare condition," the dentist said in his professional way. "There is a procedure that can be performed that will cap those teeth, so they fit in with the rest of his mouth." Sookie knew otherwise. Her son was beginning to manifest his inheritance, and if she had any lingering doubts as to his parentage, the films in her hand took care of them.

That night Sookie talked with Fran on the phone about Rick's upcoming birthday, and she told Fran about the other things, too.

"Just as well," Fran told her. "I know you don't get news where you are, but you should know Mr. Cataliades is coming with us this year. There's trouble in Supe world. The truce between Stan Davis and Felipe de Castro is pretty well over. There will be one more meeting, a Summit, in Denver. They are going to try to negotiate their differences. If it fails, there's talk of open war."

"What does that have to do with me?" Sookie asked.

"I'll let the attorney go into details, but there's a search on to find you. De Castro is claiming that you are a vassal of his kingdom and Stan Davis is making noises about victors getting the spoils. It's not pretty, but Desmond has a plan."

That night, Sookie couldn't sleep. For ten long, wonderful years she had hidden in Chester. People here knew her and they watched out for Rick. No one thought she was different, or at least different in a way that made her less. It was one of the things she loved about this place. The townspeople, and even the school people, took pride on being unique and it allowed she and Ricky to blend into the community.

Rick had the childhood Sookie always dreamed of, but she worried that their happy lives might be coming to an end.


	7. Chapter 7 - Do Not Pass Go

**Chapter 7 – Do Not Pass Go**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Sookie stood alongside Lora and Mr. Cataliades on the Chester Town Green. They watched Rick playing penny whistle a short distance away. One of Rick's friends was playing his fiddle and Rick effortlessly wove a melody and counterpoint around the tune his friend played. Sookie realized it was likely that if her son applied himself, he could play almost any musical instrument. It was the mechanical aspect of it. Rick just had a natural talent that allowed him to excel at anything that involved working with his hands. She also knew that Rick wouldn't apply himself. He just wasn't that interested in putting time into things that didn't have some tangible payoff. Sookie supposed he was like his father in that regard.

Rick was interested in dancing though, and he'd already announced that he would be going to the town contra dance being held in the church hall later with his friends, not with his mother and her friends as in years past.

"He is a handsome boy," the attorney observed.

Sookie watched her son watch the girls who were watching him. "And he knows it," she sighed. One of the girls said something and Rick stopped playing and laughed that wonderful, charming laugh, but then she said something else that must not have been so pleasing. Rick drew himself up, his shoulders back, hands on hips, in a stance that was the exact mirror of Eric Northman. Sookie had to look away, amazed that she hadn't allowed herself to see the similarities sooner.

"What have you told him about his Father?" Mr. Cataliades asked.

"I told him he's dead," Sookie sighed.

The attorney chuckled, "The Viking always said you were clever. Still, the boy should know more than that."

"You see him," Sookie waved her hand. "He's headstrong and book smart, but he doesn't have the good sense God gave a goose. He'll do things just to prove to himself that he can. If I were to tell him right now that his Father is a vampire ruler and he's in Oklahoma, I'd put dollars to donuts I'd wake up to find a note. Rick would pack some stuff in a bandana and be on the road heading off to find him." When the demon attorney chuckled, Sookie bristled, "And let's say, by some stretch of the imagination, he made it there. What would he find? Most likely that Queen of Eric's would kill Rick on sight. For sure he'd spend time locked up while they tried to figure out what he is and what to do with him. I just can't even think about it."

Sookie knew that some part of her argument was wrong and she sighed again, "I am going to tell him about Eric, but I just want to wait until he's a little older and a lot less reckless. He'll grow out of this wild phase, they all do. I just can't see giving him information that he'll only use to hurt himself."

"He is your son," the attorney shrugged, "What you choose to tell him and when is your choice," but Sookie could tell he didn't agree with her. Sookie didn't need to ask Lora her opinion, she already knew it. Lora thought Rick should have been told long ago, even when Sookie had thought his father was Sam.

"I did tell him a little about the two of us together," Sookie added. She knew it was guilt fueling her explanation. "He knows we loved each other. He just doesn't know that 'dead' doesn't mean gone."

"We should talk," Mr. Cataliades changed the subject, gesturing toward where Fran was sitting under some trees.

When they settled, Mr. Cataliades nodded to Fran, "I know the news I have won't be a surprise to you, but there are now people, Supes, openly hunting you, Sookie."

"I've had people stop me and ask questions about you," Lora nodded. "I don't know how they made the connection, but they've masqueraded as everything from Publisher's Clearinghouse to the Internal Revenue Service."

"Trackers, most likely," Mr. Cataliades replied. "They can pick up the most minute scent, even after years."

"The wards at the house have kept most of my trouble at bay," Fran added, "but there's no doubt. They are determined and they will find you. It's just a matter of time."

"And if they find me here…" and she looked back out to the Green where her son was chasing a Frisbee.

"I've done everything I can over the years to make sure that doesn't happen," Fran said sympathetically. "I've wiped memories and placed charms, so pretty much everyone we know can't speak of Rick or where you are. Even your fool of a brother…"

"You spelled Jason?" Sookie exclaimed.

"I couldn't trust him to keep his mouth shut," Fran snapped. "I'm sure he's been visited, but beyond seeing you in Boston, he wasn't able to say or recall any other detail. Not your son, not where you were headed, not any other conversation you've had since."

"I haven't spoken with him in years," Sookie acknowledged. She wondered now if the spell played some part in that, and then, glancing at her son, she tucked her discomfort away.

"So, you have to decide how you will proceed. I don't believe any of us think you waiting to be found is a good idea," Mr. Cataliades prompted.

"What would you suggest?" Sookie figured the attorney had a plan.

"Approach Felipe de Castro and offer your services on a consulting basis. He claims he is still your King and that you owe him fealty. If you will allow, I will approach the King. We will deny your status as a vassal and instead insist on your willingness to serve as an independent contractor."

"You think that will work?" Sookie asked.

"There's no reason it shouldn't," Fran shrugged, and then said to the attorney, "You could always hint she'd offer her services to King Davis if Felipe balks."

"I'd hate working for Stan," Sookie shuddered. "I only met him the once, but he's made a career out of fooling people. He was proud of how folks thought he was one way while he was really something else altogether. At least with Felipe you know what you're getting."

"It is choosing between two sides of the same coin," Mr. Cataliades nodded, "but I believe being proactive is the best course."

"And what would prevent Felipe from just torturing you for Sookie's location once he knows you can contact her? Why should the King negotiate?" Lora asked. It was a chilling thought and one that had Sookie looking at the woman with new eyes.

"Tell Felipe you're under a suicide spell," Fran smirked. "Tell him that Sookie is protected by a powerful witch and if he tried to force information about her out of you, the spell will kill you and everyone around you."

"You can do that?" Sookie gasped and Fran winked.

Mr. Cataliades didn't look at all worried about the conversation. "The King will want you to meet somewhere, probably Las Vegas, to finalize the contract. It will be an interview of sorts. That will be the most dangerous time, but the idea of a suicide spell should dampen any idea of kidnapping you."

"I'll just point out that if he tries to keep me against my will, I would give him bad information that could hurt him. Felipe's a business man. He'll deal fair," and Sookie wished she felt as confident as her words sounded.

"If you do go, you need to make contingency plans," Fran looked straight at Sookie. "You need to tell Rick the truth about things. If something happens to you, he'll need somewhere to run, and his Father is the best place."

"His Father who doesn't know he exists?" Sookie swallowed, "His Father who won't believe what he sees?"

"I think you sell the Viking short," Mr. Cataliades reprimanded her. "He has a reputation for taking care of his own. He has a deep affection for his progeny. The Supe community knows that harming either Karin or Pam guarantees the North Man's vengeance. He's made clear there will be no acceptable retribution and he is believed. You have no reason to think he wouldn't do the same for Rick."

"A boy deserves a chance to know his Father, if he can," Lora added. "I'm not criticizing you, Sookie, but things are different now. Where would he go if something happens to you? I know he thinks he's all grown up, but he isn't. He'll need someone, and, as much as we love him, he will need more than we can provide," and Lora wrapped her arm around Fran.

Sookie watched Rick. She knew her son and she knew what would follow, "I'll tell you what. Before I go to Las Vegas or anywhere, I'll write it out, the whole thing. If something does happen, one of you gives the letter to Rick and he can make up his own mind about what he should do. If he wants to head to Oklahoma, he goes to Dr. Ludwig first. We're all assuming he's Eric's…" and Sookie held up her hand to hold off the quick protest from Fran, "and I believe it. I do! But Eric will need proof and Amy Ludwig can provide that, or, at least, I think she can. If Amy vouches for Rick, Eric will believe it."

"It's a hard way for a child to learn his Mother lied to him for most of his life," Fran didn't pull punches.

"I'll explain my reasons!" Sookie protested.

"I know why you've done it," Fran chastened the younger woman, "and I'm not saying I wouldn't have done the same thing, but your child deserves to hear the truth from you."

"You're assuming something bad will happen," Sookie swallowed. "Why don't we see what Felipe has to say before we go jumping to conclusions?"

"Coward," Fran said softly enough that Sookie could ignore her if she chose.

But Sookie didn't. "I know," she said, and she took Fran's hand in her own.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Rick was late coming in to dinner. It was easier to ignore the rebellious, angry streak in her son when others weren't around. It wasn't that Rick was angry during visits before, but this time he didn't seem to be making any effort to be polite.

Once he sat down though, he unbent, naturally gravitating toward Fran and soon they were joking and teasing as they always had.

Rick excused himself to complete homework and Lora and Mr. Cataliades both made their excuses, leaving Sookie and Fran sitting in the kitchen. As promised, the house was empty of guests this week, so everyone had rooms. Sookie and Rick had moved upstairs, letting Fran enjoy the first floor apartment.

When Sookie set the tea in front of Fran, the witch turned to her and said, "Children know things. They know things we think they don't and if they feel they are being lied to, they become angry. Your son is no dummy. He knows there is something going on and you holding out the way you are is damaging your relationship with him."

"Rick is just headstrong," Sookie kept her eyes on the table, "Stubborn. I was at his age."

"You are sure a good one for lying to yourself," Fran was getting angry. "You don't think he knows he's different? What are you going to do? Wait until those fangs drop or hope he doesn't embarrass himself the next time someone bleeds in front of him? It's a special kind of cruel mother who denies her own child information he needs to know!"

"You don't know Rick will have any of that!" Sookie hissed.

"And neither do you!" Fran snapped back. "You can put your head in the sand like no one I've ever known! No wonder you lost Northman! You couldn't admit it was sunny day if you were tied down and your bare-naked self was burning to a crisp! Get your head out of your ass and do right by your boy!" Fran got up and started stalking toward her bedroom. Halfway there, she turned around and walked back, every inch of her tense, "If something happens to you, that child will know nothing about the world that will come for him! You haven't told him one thing about you, have you? Does he know about your telepathy?"

"He guessed," Sookie admitted, and she couldn't meet Fran's eyes.

"You don't think that made him angry?" Fran didn't let up. "And when someone tells him you've lied about your name, oh, and by the way, you're Fae with the essential spark, how do you think that's going to go over?"

"Not well," Sookie admitted.

"Figure it out!" Fran pointed her finger, "But with the way your life is headed, you need to trust Rick. You need to tell him about you and you need to tell him about himself! You need to help prepare him for what's coming, because if you think you're going to step back into the Supe world and somehow keep him out of it, you're lying to yourself again, and this time it's the kind of big lie that could get your boy killed!" Fran turned back and when she went through into the bedroom, she made the door slam hard.

Sookie looked back at her hands wrapped around her tea cup. She knew Fran was right, but it was hard thinking about how she should start with Rick, and harder still to think about all the things she deserved to hear from Rick in return. Taking another sip, Sookie took a deep breath and climbed the stairs that took her to the top floor.

She knocked lightly on the half-open door. Rick was lying across the bed, earbuds firmly planted. She had to knock again a little harder before he looked up. "Mind if we talk for a minute?" she asked.

"You and Auntie Fran fighting?" Rick rolled into a sitting position. Sookie wondered that her son could have heard it, so far above them.

"Not exactly," Sookie smiled tightly and sat on the edge of the bed.

Rick didn't say anything more. He gave her an expectant look and when she didn't say anything, he eye-rolled, "Look, I have homework, so maybe we could wait for the chitchat until tomorrow morning…"

"I have something to tell you," Sookie interrupted. "Something I should have told you a long time ago," and then she stopped again, shy and uncertain.

After an awkward few moments, Rick said, "Well?"

"Well," Sookie repeated, and finding her courage, she looked at Rick and said, "You already know that I'm different." When he didn't acknowledge what she was saying, she added, "You know, the telepathy." Rick nodded and gave her a look that said, ' _So what?_ ' "Well," Sookie stammered a bit, "That's not the only thing about me that's different. You've heard about supernaturals; vampires and Weres and such," and Sookie waited until Rick nodded. "Well, I'm one of those," she told him, "and you are, too."

Rick's eyes narrowed, "What are you talking about?" Sookie could see his distrust and it made her heart hurt.

"I'm what's called Fae," Sookie explained. "Not all Fae, just part Fae. The other part is human, but the Fae part gives me what's called the essential essence or the spark. It makes me a little magic, and it makes me attractive to other supernaturals."

"And that's why you can read people's minds," Rick was watching her and Sookie didn't feel his belief was any stronger than when she'd started.

"Well, no," she explained, "the telepathy is because my grandmother drank demon's blood."

Sookie could hear how odd that sounded and Rick confirmed he thought she was losing it, "Demon blood? From some horned, fork-tailed demon, I suppose?"

"No," Sookie shook her head, "from Uncle Desmond."

"Uncle Desmond?" and Rick's eyebrows were climbing, "Fat Uncle Desmond with his suits and prissy manners? He isn't much older than you and you're trying to tell me…" Rick's voice was getting louder.

"Your Uncle Desmond is a Supe," Sookie interrupted again, "and older than I can even think about. Truth is, you're surrounded by Supes. Your Auntie Fran is a witch, I'm Fae, and Uncle Desmond is a demon."

"What? No vampires?!" Rick sneered.

"You watch your tone with me, young man!" Sookie warned, "And truth is, the only vampire in this mix is you." When Rick's mouth dropped, Sookie nodded, "Your father, Rick. He is vampire." Sookie fished the dental slides from her sweater pocket and held them out, "And from the looks of things, you'll be dropping fang at some point, too."

Rick looked at the slides. He held them up to the light, and then he studied them some more. "This isn't a joke?" he asked.

Sookie shook her head, "No, Rick. No, honey, it's not."

Rick handed the films back to Sookie, "So… What? Why are you telling me this?"

"There's more," Sookie tucked the pictures back in her pocket. "My name wasn't always Susan Hale. I was born Sookie Stackhouse."

"Why would you do that?" Rick asked, "What are you? Are you telling me you're a spy or something?"

Sookie and Rick had been watching a television series where the family were really Russian spies, and Sookie found his answer made her smile. "No, not spies," she told him. "But I was tired of living in the Supe world. It's a hard world and full of danger and I wanted you to have a quiet life, a normal life."

"So why are you telling me now?" Rick was back to looking skeptical.

"Because the Supe world is looking for me," Sookie told him honestly. "If it were up to me, I'd have us live here the rest of our lives and never once think about Supes or any of it, but it's not up to me. I'm going to have to go back into that world for awhile, and so you need to know about all of this."

"What do you mean, you are going into that world?" and Rick was her child again. The arrogance was gone and Sookie was reminded how young he was.

"I'm going to go back to work for one of their Kings," Sookie told Rick. "Mind-reading is not a common gift and vampires value it. If I work for the King, Felipe De Castro is his name, if I work for him, he will be required to protect me and mine."

"Am I going with you?" And there it was. Sookie's heart broke as she heard the waver in her son's voice.

"No, Rick," Sookie reached over and took his hand, but Rick snatched it back.

"So, you're just going to leave me here?" Sookie knew the anger was fueled now by fear, so she kept talking. Sookie told him about how she'd worked using her telepathy before. She told him about the explosion in Rhodes and she told him about Dallas. She explained that Mr. Cataliades (Uncle Desmond) would be arranging it so Sookie would travel only when the King had a job and how other times they would live here in Chester like before. "Only now, folks will know where we are."

"Not if we manage it well," Sookie stammered. "If all goes well, it will be like before. We'll be able to live here without much interference. There's no reason that folks here need to know we're different…well," and Sookie smiled, "that different!"

Rick wasn't smiling, "So, all this time you knew this. Auntie Fran knew and Uncle Desmond, but no one told me."

"I wanted to wait until you were old enough," Sookie told him. She hoped that the nod to his being mature would salve his wounded pride, and Sookie could see that it did, but not enough.

"I knew you were lying to me," Rick said softly. "I knew it!"

"I told you what I could," Sookie refused to back down, "and I kept the information that would keep you safe."

"What happened to my father?" Rick asked.

Sookie considered being clever again, but just as quickly dismissed the idea, "He left me," she told Rick. "He had an opportunity to marry a vampire Queen. She was rich and beautiful, and vampires don't age." Sookie glanced at her own reflection in the mirror and, for the first time, it occurred to her she'd likely see Eric Northman again. "I couldn't compete with that," she told Rick, "and to tell you the truth, I wasn't sure I wanted to."

"You told me he's dead," and Sookie could hear the question.

"All vampires are dead," and Sookie reached over and took his hand again. "But if you're asking if your father is still around, the answer is yes." Her son's eyes widened, "But, before you get any ideas, you need to know there's a contract and, let me tell you, Rick, vampires are serious about their contracts! I am not allowed to see him or speak with him. He is married to his Queen for two hundred years, or, I guess one hundred and ninety years, more or less." Sookie glanced at her reflection again. "Even if you could get to him, he's not going to believe you're his son. You see, vampires don't reproduce like humans."

"So then how did I happen?" Rick asked.

"Like I said, I'm not exactly human. The best I can figure, it was a magic thing," and Sookie looked away before saying, "I'm not saying you shouldn't meet him. I think you should, but it would be better if you were a little older."

"Why?" Rick challenged.

"For all kinds of reasons!" Sookie snapped, her nerves jangling. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I know this is a lot. For now, just promise me you won't make trouble for your Aunt Lora or Auntie Fran. If this King wants to hire me, I'm going to have to fly out to see him. Your Aunts will stay here with you until I return."

"Why don't you take me with you?" Rick asked.

Sookie didn't want to scare Rick, but then she thought of how fearless he was now, how reckless. "Because it would be just like a vampire to hurt you or take you prisoner to force me to do what they wanted, Son. Vampires are vain, cruel beings. There aren't many of them, not really, but they can kill you in the blink of an eye, and they hold human life cheap as dirt." Sookie looked her son directly in the eyes, "And what's more, you're part Fae, like me. Your blood tastes better to them. We smell better, and that makes us more likely to be hurt by them. They are possessive and if they like something, they want it all. If they had their hands on you, they might be tempted to drain you dry."

Rick didn't pull his hand from hers. Sookie could see he was thinking all this through. "So," he said after awhile, "where are you really from? I can tell from the way you talk you aren't from around here."

Sookie nodded, "I'm from a little town called Bon Temps in Louisiana," she told her son, and then she told him the rest.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

It took hours. When Sookie came downstairs, Lora and Mr. Cataliades were waiting. "How'd it go?" Lora asked.

"Better than I thought," Sookie didn't bother asking how Lora knew. She was sure the demon told her.

"I leave for Las Vegas tomorrow," Desmond informed Sookie. "It's best to get things moving quickly."

"You'll need clothes," Lora added. "I don't think your jumpers and Birkenstocks will go over too well in Sin City."

"I'll take her," and Fran walked out of the bedroom, her hair in a messy gray braid, her feet in felt slippers. "I will contact my sisters and they will take care of arrangements. No one will detect us and we can have you back here within two days."

"I'm sure I can pick up a few things and just come back," Sookie protested.

"You'll need to have your hair done," Lora protested.

"And clothes should be fitted," Fran added. "You don't want to look like a beggar. Vampires respect wealth. You must show to your best."

"Good thing I didn't let myself go to seed," Sookie laughed nervously.

You look fine," Fran assured her.

"You are a handsome woman," Mr. Cataliades agreed, "The King will be charmed."

The next morning, Rick headed off to school. Sookie thought about the letter that was in the desk drawer, the one with contact information for Dr. Ludwig as well as a separate letter she'd written to Eric. It was the hardest letter she'd ever written. Sookie didn't anticipate any trouble for her shopping trip, but now that she was preparing for the worst, it seemed foolish not to consider every possibility.

Sookie drove Fran to the train station and they parked Fran's Prius in the commuter lot. The trip to the city took a couple hours and the women found there was much to discuss. Fran filled Sookie in on the gossip that was the Supe world. She informed Sookie about changes in allegiances and which monarchs were where. Fran carefully laid out the history of the current dispute, and the hopes that all but the vampires were pinning on the upcoming Summit in Denver. "If Felipe hires you, that will likely be your first job," Fran told Sookie. "There will be retinue and staff, not to mention the hotel staff. Since Rhodes, vampires are still pretty paranoid, so I'd imagine Felipe will have you busy."

They were met at the station by an older woman. "I'm Rowan," she introduced herself and held out her hand. Sookie could feel the electric charge that was Rowan's brain and she almost pulled her hand back when she touched her and the electric feeling ran up her arm.

"Rowan and I are sisters of sorts," Fran told Sookie, and the telepath understood that to mean sisters in witchcraft.

Sookie spent the next hours shuttled in and out of taxis and small stores. Everyone they met seemed to know she was coming. Sookie introduced herself as Susan Hale, but she was sure that, first, no one believed her, and, second, no one really cared. Her hair was trimmed and highlights foiled into her tresses. She was given a facial that involved steam and scrubbing. Even her hands were scrubbed and then her nails meticulously cleaned.

When Rowan announced they were done for the night, Sookie found herself in possession of several suits, dresses, new shoes, and the underwear and pantyhose needed to complete the ensembles. Several of the suits were being altered, but Sookie was assured the work would be done early tomorrow, so they could return to Chester.

By noon the following day, Fran and Sookie were back at the train station. "It was a pleasure to be of service to you," Rowan bowed slightly to Sookie.

"I don't know what you mean," Sookie felt embarrassed by the other woman's display. "I don't think we've ever met."

"We haven't," Rowan acknowledged, "but we've all heard about the Angel of Rhodes. You stayed and saved so many of us that night. You allowed the humans to see your gift, even though it placed you in danger. There were witches there in the retinues who owe their lives to you."

"It was a long time ago," Sookie mumbled, her face burning.

"A life is a lifelong debt," Rowan refused to back down. Turning to Fran, she said, "Take care of yourself, Sister. You are ever welcome."

"And you are welcome in my home," Fran stepped in to hug Rowan. Sookie helped Fran step up onto the platform, and then find their seats for the long ride back to the small station that was still so many miles from Chester.

Fran napped and Sookie read as the landscape passed by their windows. It was the gentle shaking of Fran's hand that woke her when they arrived. Sookie checked her phone before she started the car for the last leg of their journey, "No word from Desmond," she told Fran.

Lora was walking out the door of the B&B when the text message came through. Sookie was expected to present herself to Felipe de Castro in Las Vegas in two nights' time. Desmond suggested she make her own flight arrangements, but should expect the King to arrange transportation from the airport.

Rick passed her on the driveway, flashing a shy smile as he grabbed a suitcase from the car. "How were things here?" Sookie asked him.

"The same," he shrugged, but he looked happy to have her home.

Later, Sookie walked up the stairs to the top floor where Rick was staying while Fran and Lora visited. Sookie quizzed him about school and whether he'd had tests. She asked about his friends and what he'd had for dinner while she was gone. Finally, she said, "I told you a lot of things before I left. Do you have any questions for me?"

"What's his name?" Sookie could see he half-expected her to refuse to answer. It was in the jut of his lip and the set of his shoulders.

"Eric Northman," Sookie told him without hesitation.

"Was he your boyfriend?" Rick asked.

"No, Rick," Sookie took her Son's hand. "No, you see, he was my husband. We were pledged, which is how vampires marry." It didn't escape Sookie that these words flowed so easily for her Son when they had never been easy to give the vampire she now claimed.

"I don't understand." Sookie looked at Rick's troubled face and she reached out to brush her fingers across the furrows in his forehead.

"We were married, but, your Father's Maker, he didn't think being married to a human was right. He felt I was pretty well beneath his Child, so he created a contract with a Queen. He showed up in town and told Eric about it. Now, your Father wasn't crazy about the idea of leaving me and he told me he tried everything to set the contract aside but, in the end, he went along." Sookie found her throat closing as she remembered that night in the back office of Fangtasia. She cut off those memories before they could choke her, swallowed hard, and told Rick, "He divorced me. He told me the contract and the wishes of his Maker came first."

"So…" and Rick squeezed his Mother's hand, "he left me, too."

It was on the tip of her tongue to leave it there, to let Rick think that Eric Northman had abandoned them both, but Sookie couldn't. Her Son didn't deserve thinking he'd been abandoned. "Your Father didn't know about you," she told him. "Neither of us did."

"And when you told him about me?" Rick was waiting for the crushing blow. He was waiting for his Mother to tell him his Father had rejected him.

"I never did," she smiled sadly. "Your Father doesn't know about you."

"But, if he did…" and there it was, that headlong, reckless look that flickered across Rick's face.

"Rick, there are reasons I haven't tried to tell him," Sookie sighed. "First, there's the contract. Your Father put that contract ahead of me. He could have ignored it, but he didn't, and there's wording in there that's a kind of restraining order. If I violate it, your Father's wife is allowed to kill me." Sookie let Rick take that in, and she could see that he didn't want to believe it. "Second, your Father has enemies. I wanted you to have a normal, happy childhood. I didn't want you in constant danger because you're something rare that folks won't be able to understand. If I tried to contact your Father, it would attract attention, and that would have led back to you."

"I've never met a vampire," Rick said slowly.

"I know, Sweetheart," Sookie pulled her boy close. "But I think that's all going to change. What I have to figure out is how we're going to handle that. I don't know how you feel about this, but I'd rather keep you a secret from that world for awhile. I think you like your life here, you like your friends."

"You're protecting me," Rick nodded.

"I'm trying to protect us both," Sookie agreed.

"So, what's changed?" Rick asked. "Why are you changing things?"

"Because there's trouble," Sookie told him, and then she told him as much as she knew about the war that was brewing.

"So you're going to work for the King who took over Louisiana?" Sookie could see Rick was starting to struggle with the complexities. "But he's on the other side from my Father?"

"The King I'm going to work for, Felipe de Castro, kind of owes me," Sookie told her Son. When Rick tilted his head, Sookie answered the question he clearly wanted to ask, "You see, I saved his life once and he promised me protection."

"How'd you save a King's life?" Rick leaned forward.

"There was someone who wanted to kill him, and I ran that vampire over with a car," and Sookie smiled as Rick hooted with laughter.

"I can see you doing it!" Rick chuckled, "Like when Mrs. Beggs at the Post Office gets all snotty about the foreign kids and you get that look in your eye."

"I'm sure I don't look that mean," Sookie sniffed.

"If looks could kill, she'd be stone dead!" her Son assured her.

Sookie reached over and tickled Rick like they used to when he was younger and he tickled her back. After a few minutes, Sookie reached over and wrapped her growing Son in her arms, and hugged him close. "I have to fly to Las Vegas to meet with the King the day after tomorrow," she told Rick. "I'll be gone for three days."

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"Yes," Sookie told him. "But I believe it will all turn out fine. Uncle Desmond is out there and he'll look out for me."

Rick wrapped his arms around his Mother's waist, "You promise you'll come home?" he whispered.

"I promise," Sookie whispered. It occurred to Sookie, that as hard as it had been to be honest, she had her son back in a way she hadn't realized she'd been missing.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Sookie wasn't surprised to find it was a vampire who was waiting for her, the 'Stackhouse' placard in his hand. He was wearing some kind of formal livery, which also didn't surprise Sookie. Felipe de Castro had always been a bit of a dandy, and making his employees wear a uniform fit the profile.

Raising her hand, she took a deep breath before saying, "Yes, that's me." He wasn't anyone Sookie had met before. He was taller than her, but pretty much everyone was. Sookie's feet were already killing her in the tall heels, so when the driver turned and walked briskly toward the door, Sookie refused to pick up her own pace. He must have realized she wasn't behind him, because he stopped at the doors and turned around.

"I still have to get my bags," Sookie said in her normal voice. She knew the vampire could hear her. They always could. Taking her time, Sookie pivoted slowly and carefully toward the baggage claim area. The vampire was beside her almost immediately and hissed, "Give me your tags. I will have someone follow with your bag." Sookie hadn't noticed Vampire Two until he was there. He held out his hand and Sookie retrieved her claim check from her purse and handed it to him.

Vampire One then did something unexpected. He offered her his arm. Sookie's arches were screaming, and it took almost no persuasion to get her to thread her arm through his and allow him to support her out the door. She had expected a black car, but it was a Vegas white stretch limo that awaited her.

Another liveried vampire had the door open. Vampire One handed her in, Vampire Three closed the door, and Sookie turned to find herself face to face with Felipe de Castro. "Good evening, Miss Stackhouse," he purred.

"Good evening back at ya," Sookie replied automatically. It had been twelve years since she'd left Louisiana, but just seeing the King brought her accent back. Reminding herself what was at stake, Sookie gathered herself, smoothed her skirt, and rearranged things before speaking again. This time she made sure that the harder consonants and clipped accent of New England came through, "Thank you again for inviting me. I look forward to discussing the opportunity."

Felipe's eyes widened and then his smile became genuine, "Why, Miss Stackhouse, I believe the years have changed you."

"I hope you're not referring to my age," and Sookie smiled warmly.

"I would never insult such a beautiful woman by suggesting it," Felipe leaned back and cocked his head to the side. "No, it's something else. You seem to have grown into your promise." The King gestured toward a bar built into the back of the driver's seat. "Perhaps you would like something to drink?"

"Water would be fine," Sookie replied, and then she waited. The old Sookie would have jumped to serve the King, but the new Sookie appreciated that whoever served set the tone for what was to follow.

The King waited, too, but then his amusement seemed to win over and he laughed, leaned forward, and poured Sookie water before retrieving a bottle of Royalty from what looked like a warmer for himself. "Yes, Miss Stackhouse, you have become much more intriguing!"

Sookie thanked Felipe and then turned her attention to the bright lights of the Strip. While she'd seen this image on television and movies, Sookie found the actual sight was mesmerizing and then she saw herself reflected in the window glass. The woman she saw was calm and collected, her face a study of angles and shadows, hair stylishly coiled in a French knot. She saw the King behind her, his eyes fastened on her, and she could see his approval. For some reason, his open admiration gave her confidence, and Sookie Stackhouse sat straighter as the limo made its way into the desert and toward the palace.


	8. Chapter 8 - And Now Sooner

**Chapter 8 – And Now Sooner**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Eric could hear Freyda's tinkling laugh from the other side of the house. It was Thursday, their usual night. Freyda came to his primary residence as regular as clockwork and they'd spend the evening together. Sometimes they invited others. Sometimes, like tonight, it was just the two of them. They talked politics and business. It was a night to kick back, away from the palace and the demands of their retinues. The dress code was casual and most of the time all they did was watch movies.

Eric introduced Freyda to television and then to Netflix. He found they shared a love for campy horror and anything involving vampires. They could spend hours in front of the screen, sipping Royalty and occasionally bringing in a donor ('take out'). Sometimes Freyda spent the night in his bed, but they rarely had sex. It just wasn't that kind of relationship.

Eric told himself that what existed between himself and Freyda was more than friends, more than lovers. He cared for her, and what's more, he trusted her. He knew Freyda had his back, and he had proven to her that he could be counted on to do the same. Were they living in his human days, Freyda would have been a shield maiden and Eric would have been proud to have her fighting at his side. Yes, he cared for Freyda, but Eric didn't love her. In truth, he didn't believe he would ever love again, and that was for the best. As his Maker told him many times, there was no place for love in a vampire's life.

If only Eric had held to that code. The hangover he continued to feel for the woman he had loved lingered on. He had never told Freyda how he developed his affection for television. He didn't tell Freyda why he refused to watch "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer." There were other secrets, too, things he hid deep, unwilling to have anyone get too close.

Many years ago, Eric had a pair of bullets set into cufflinks. He meant for them to remind him of the dangers of emotional attachments. It had been a mistake. Instead of strengthening his resolve, each time he rubbed them they had the opposite effect. They reminded him of the feel of her lips and the way she smelled when she cried. They reminded him of her fiery temper and how she felt in his arms. He considered destroying the jewelry, but each time he had them poised over the trash, he made a different excuse. For the past year they sat in the drawer next to his bed, a testament to his weakness.

Freyda came bounding into the living room, a DVD in her hand, "Oh, you are going to love this!" she chuckled, and tossed him the box.

"Why don't we just stream it?" Eric asked.

"This one is too old," Freyda flopped down on the couch. "It's a supposed classic. Frank Langella is Dracula. Black cape, hypnotic eyes. I can hardly wait!"

"I hope there's an accent," Eric smirked. He was more amused by his Queen's high spirits than watching another comical attempt by a human to render his hero.

"What do you think about a Hallowe'en party?" Freyda suggested as Eric loaded the DVD. "We could all dress as our favorite era. I'll bet you have some old clothes in storage somewhere."

Eric frowned, "I've never been much of a packrat. Not like you! I traveled light…"

"One step ahead of the witch hunters?" Freyda chortled.

"Go ahead and laugh," he admonished her. "You are spoiled. Those of you turned in these more modern times have no appreciation for the real dangers being a vampire presented."

"Oh!" and Freyda crossed her arms and sat up, "And now you're going to lecture me about how you had to sleep in cold graveyards, covering yourself in rotting corpses!"

"There were real dangers!" Eric rose to Freyda's bait. "It was considered an act of heroism to kill us." Eric couldn't be angry with her. Freyda was so much younger than him. She was brilliant and politically savvy, but she couldn't identify with his depth of caution. She simply didn't have the same experience, and in these days of mainstreaming, probably never would. In many ways, Eric envied her.

The opening credits rolled, and the stereotypical musical overture swelled through the speakers. Freyda cuddled closer and Eric drew her to him. She laid her head against his shoulder, and for the millionth time, Eric wondered why he couldn't feel more for Freyda than he did.

Freyda folded her hand, so she could hold onto Eric's shirt. She loved the way he made her feel when he wrapped his arm around her. She felt safe and, if she tried, for a moment she could feel cherished as well.

Eric was rumbling on about the dangers of the old days, so she allowed herself a small sigh. He would interpret it as her impatience with his reminiscing, but that wasn't the real reason. It was true that Freyda was much younger than the Viking, but she was not naïve. Freyda knew that it would be easy to fall in love with this vampire, but that was a luxury she would not permit herself.

Eric didn't speak of it, this thing he carried in his heart, but Freyda saw it. When he put the cufflinks he'd taken from the human woman away, Freyda hoped that signaled an end to it. It didn't. She could see it, the haunted look he wore from time to time when he thought she wasn't looking.

Still, if there was one thing they had, it was time. These years together had flown by, ever different, yet ever the same, as is the fate of any vampire. All the particulars around you; the houses, the plants, the humans, all change, wiped away by time. What doesn't change is you; the vampire. You endure and after awhile, you stop seeing those things that will only be there for a breath in your long, evergreen existence. At least, that was Freyda's theory, and to date it had never been proven wrong.

The factor that convinced Freyda that her theory was right was the pain Eric Northman was experiencing even now. He had allowed himself to become tethered to that human woman, and now he suffered. Sookie Stackhouse was the exception that was proving the rule, and Freyda knew that soon, in the next fifty years or so, the woman would be dead and dust, and Eric would mourn her. Then, after another twenty years, or maybe thirty, he would come to grips with his grief, and Freyda would still be here. She would be at his side for another hundred years beyond that and, perhaps then, the affection they felt for each other, the respect, could grow into something more binding.

For now, Freyda was content to build on the comfort and happiness that existed between them. Eric invited her into his home. They had interests they enjoyed sharing. They trusted each other. It was enough for now.

Freyda glanced up when Eric stopped talking. "Are you ready for the Summit?" Freyda asked, changing the subject.

"I wish you could come with me," Eric answered, rubbed his fingers through her hair, massaging her skull.

"I wish I could, too," Freyda smiled and stretched, "but we agreed it would be a mistake. Felipe would hector me, reminding me of the favor he did in supporting our pledging."

"Felipe did what benefitted Felipe," Eric growled.

"You know that and I know that, but Felipe is vain. He can't see how transparent he is. He'll think because I'm a female and young that it wouldn't occur to me how exiling you from Louisiana benefitted him. Frankly, if I did anyone a favor," and Freyda pushed against Eric's shoulder a little, "it was you! If you'd stayed in Louisiana much longer causing trouble, Felipe would have had to try and kill you himself."

"I was a model vassal!" Eric protested.

"Model pain the ass is more like it!" Freyda teased. "Everyone knows you killed Victor Madden, but no one would admit it. That ensured you a place on De Castro's death list. What King could allow such blatant rebellion to remain unpunished in his territory? He had to be wondering where you would aim next."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Eric purred. "I am sure I had no part in Victor's disappearance. It's just another unsolved mystery."

"Go ahead, Viking! Play your game, but you can't tell me I'm not the reason you still exist among the undead. You got out from under Zorro's thumb and I think you've done very well for yourself in spite of it."

"Are you asking me to reward you for saving me?" Eric tugged Freyda's hair to tilt her face up to him. He gave her his sex look, and, for a moment, he almost meant it.

"You're sweet to offer," Freyda smiled slightly, understanding what he was offering. It was tempting to accept. Sex with Eric was delicious, but giving in too easily would not build the kind of desire Freyda wanted, so she diverted back to the original discussion. "No, better I stay in Oklahoma. I won't find myself drawn into some conversation I don't want to have. Can you imagine? Stan would be up our asses, fussing and fuming over any hint we were talking with Felipe. If you go on your own, you can use your cover as a former, disgruntled subject to keep Felipe de Castro at bay."

"You are clever, my wife," Eric said, and then quieted. His choice of words caused him an uncomfortable feeling. What's more, it seemed that once he'd triggered the line of thought that led to Sookie Stackhouse, it was like a sore tooth. He kept poking at it. "Remind me again why I should tell my former King I'm holding a grudge?" Eric murmured, keeping his eyes on the screen.

"Because he forced you to divorce," Freyda said carefully.

Eric stilled. Freyda knew they were dangerously close to the subject they never discussed, and she waited, hoping this time he would open up to her. She prayed his question signaled a new phase between them where he was ready to explore this shadow that loomed so large and start to put it behind them. Freyda settled against Eric, giving him time. Had she the need to breathe, she would have held her breath, but for all her waiting, he said nothing.

Sighing, Freyda turned, rubbed her cheek against the Viking's shirt, and laughed at the way the actor in the movie hissed, allowing the subject to close and move them back to less dangerous ground.

Eric forced his attention back to the woman leaning into him, her eyes focused on the television screen. It was something else he respected about her; he was certain Freyda knew his secret, but she never called him out on it. She allowed him his dignity.

"I am most fortunate in having you as my Queen," Eric said instead.

"Yes, you are!" Freyda glanced up, her eyes sparkling and she gave him her agreeable, attractive laugh, "And I'm happy you are smart enough to know it!"

"You are kind to say so," Eric replied, and they relaxed as they both backed away from the abyss that was his baggage. "I wish I didn't have to go to the Summit either. Stan was overbearing before he became Clan Chief. Now, he is insufferable."

"I always feel as if I need a rearview mirror with him," Freyda agreed. "You never know what he's doing once your back is turned!"

"The money we spent on spies was money well spent," Eric agreed. "He is a shit stirrer, and knowing when he is fabricating problems has proven helpful."

"You would be such a better Clan Chief!" Freyda purred, and then stretched before cuddling back against the Viking.

"It would be difficult to find support," Eric frowned. This was a conversation they'd had before. "Clan Chiefs are traditionally Kings."

"And since when are you traditional?" Freyda challenged. "I can't put your name forward. It appears too self-serving, but there are others who would if you just mentioned your interest!"

Eric sighed, "That is your opinion. You are an optimistic vampire, which is rare, but that doesn't change things. Most are not like you."

"You know I can't name you King," Freyda sat up so they could talk face to face. "There are too many traditionalists. If you are named King, they will walk right past me. Most of our kind prefer to deal with males. I would lose my place and my standing."

"It's not fair," Eric acknowledged.

"No, it's not, but we both know it's true." Freyda shook her head, "I would be a fool to do it. It's not because I feel any ill will or…"

"I understand," Eric stood and walked away. He did understand. Vampires would deal with Queens, but, at heart, theirs was a patriarchal society. If Eric were named King, most of those from outside the kingdom, and many from within as well, would take their issues to Eric, bypassing Freyda. Even if it were made known that Freyda was the dominant in their partnership, still, vampires would approach Eric first. It wasn't right or best, but it was the way of things.

"I've ruined our mood," Freyda stood, too, and laid her hands against Eric's chest. "I do wish things were different," she told him. "You know I think of you as more than my Consort. In my mind, you are my King."

"I know it," Eric smiled back. Freyda was a good woman. She insisted that Eric be given all the honors due a King. She gave him his independence and she never over-stepped. It wasn't through Freyda's actions that Eric felt slighted. It was through the actions of all who interacted with them, all who heard Eric's title as less, and treated him that way.

"This is the first major Summit you've attended on your own," Freyda shrugged. "I'm sure you'll be able to find some fun while you're in Denver."

"Never too much," Eric chucked Freyda under the chin and she rewarded him with a hint of fang. Eric knew Freyda's current favorite was a breathtaking redhead and Freyda suggested they share her. It was arranged and they settled back to finish watching the movie. As they headed for the bed chamber, Eric reflected that they simply didn't feel possessive about each other's bodies as some monarchs did. What was inviolate was their blood. It belonged strictly to each other by consent and contract and it was a promise they kept. Neither found it difficult; Freyda because she restricted herself to humans whom she viewed as beneath her, and Eric because he never found anyone who engaged his interest for long.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

 **Las Vegas**

Sookie held onto Felipe's arm a little tighter as they walked up the stairs into the Spanish hacienda-style mansion. ' _I hope I don't have to walk much further_ ,' she thought. The ache in her arches had transformed into a stabbing pain in the ball of her left foot and Sookie wasn't sure how much farther she'd make it.

There had been a time Sookie had twirled and danced in shoes only a little lower than the ones she wore now, but those days were long gone. It had been literally years since she'd worn a shoe with any elevation. In Chester, high heels, like nail polish, were female affectations meant for school parents and summer people up from the city. Town people, particularly female town people, decried these fashion statements as stylized foot binding and playing with deadly chemicals. ' _Would you coat your body in benzene?_ ' one of the women would snort when a manicured outsider stalked by. It was a different kind of snobbish and Sookie was wishing at the moment that more people felt that way.

As if he could read her mind, Felipe leaned over and whispered, "We are almost there, my dear Miss Stackhouse." Felipe still had his lispy accent, and he tended to pronounce her name 'Steckhouse,' instead of 'Stackhouse.' Another time she'd find it funny, but right now the promise of arriving at their destination so she could get off her feet made her too grateful.

There was a turn and a short walk before Felipe made good on his promise and they turned into a small sitting room. Felipe handed Sookie over to a couch and held her hand as she lowered herself onto the cushion. He smiled down at her for a minute. Sookie found an odd prickling along her spine, but then he turned and walked to the facing couch, seating himself as well. "So, you are coming to work for me," Felipe said.

"That's what we'll figure out," Sookie smiled back. She sat back, trying to make herself look both a little bigger and relaxed. It was a ploy and they both knew it, but Felipe seemed to appreciate the gesture.

"Before we discuss our business," Felipe waved his hand, "it is a custom in my house that all guests should be comfortable. Is there anything you would like? Perhaps some more water? Or… a gin and tonic? I seem to remember that was the drink you preferred."

"Water would be fine," Sookie tried to keep her body loose, but it was hard. She crossed her legs and then re-crossed them. The circulation was returning in her feet and the sensation was not pleasant. Sookie wondered how she'd manage to make it to where she was sleeping without taking off her shoes along the way.

Felipe had risen and walked to a house phone located behind his couch. Sookie watched him as he stood, his back to her, talking in that hissing way vampires had. "My servants will be here shortly," he said as he turned back toward her and resumed his seat.

When he leaned back, almost a mirror image of Sookie's posture, he said, "I know you left my territories many years ago. I assume you have taken the opportunity to travel. May I ask what places you have seen?"

It was elegantly done, and Sookie's thoughts tumbled and turned as she struggled for an answer, "I don't have the kind of money that makes too much travel convenient," she said through a tight smile.

"Ahh," and Felipe smiled like a cat who drank cream. "So, you have settled into a new home base. I remember how important having a home was to you. You used the word often."

"I suppose it's important to you, too," Sookie replied smoothly. "Your home here is beautiful." It was a lesson Fran had drilled into her over the years, the art of being polite without answering personal questions. There were times Sookie found it infuriating. Sookie preferred to be direct, but she soon realized the never-ending parade of parents rich and famous enough to afford the private schools didn't appreciate giving anything up, least of all anything personal.

Felipe glanced around, "I am comfortable here," he conceded. He was leaning forward a little when the door to the room opened and several servants in uniform walked in. A tray with drinks was set on a table. Water was poured and offered to Sookie before being set before her. At the same time, a set of servants walked over to the couches. They appeared to be twins and the first kneeled down in front of Felipe and started unlacing his shoes. "I prefer not to walk around my home in shoes, so I've had slippers brought for us. I hope you don't mind."

Sookie worked hard not to react too much. She thought she was doing well, but it now seemed the King had read her all too easily. "That's kind of you," she smiled, and the woman in front of her knelt as well, removing first one shoe and then the other.

By now, the servant in front of Felipe was actually rubbing his feet. He was grinning, and then asked, "Oh! Would you like a massage as well? They are quite talented, I assure you."

"Well… I suppose," and Sookie couldn't help blushing.

"Mi casa es su casa," Felipe purred the traditional greeting, and the woman in front of Sookie started. Blushing gave way to a low moan that made Sookie blush even brighter. The woman was a genius and Sookie felt the pains and gnarls melting away.

"Don't be embarrassed," Felipe grinned. "I will confess I love the line of a woman in heels like those," and he nodded at the tall heels set neatly by the couch, "but I have never understood how anyone could actually wear them."

When they were finished, the servants slipped plush, terrycloth slippers onto Felipe and Sookie's feet. Sookie noticed the slippers had a monogram, the same one that was on the uniforms of the servants. "There!" Felipe sighed and leaned back. He sipped what Sookie assumed was blood, and he looked at her under hooded eyes. "Has anyone told you lately what an attractive woman you are?" he asked.

"Well," and Sookie smiled brightly, "I believe you did when you picked me up from the airport. That was very kind of you," she continued. "I didn't expect you to put yourself out for me that way."

"I was curious," the King replied. "It has been many years for someone like yourself." Sookie figured he was referring to her being human. "Our mutual friend was quite loyal to you. I wanted to see how time had treated you," and, with that, Sookie's suspicion was confirmed.

"And?" she asked, sipping her own water.

"Time is your friend, Sookie," Felipe purred. "It has rounded the hard edges and polished you. I am pleased that our mutual friend is not here with us. I don't believe I would have any opportunity to charm you if he was."

"You are very flattering," Sookie smiled. Neither of them had to specify who the 'mutual friend' might be. Felipe was fishing and Sookie was not inclined to bite.

"I hope you believe that to be the case," Felipe smiled some more. "I was prepared to push on some of the requirements of your contract, but now? I am inclined to allow you every demand in exchange for other concessions."

"What might those be?" and Sookie looked boldly at the King.

"Dinner. Time together, to get you know you again. I can see now what the Viking saw," and Sookie had an uncomfortable view of the bulge in the front of Felipe's pants.

"I have come to appreciate the joys of a quiet life," Sookie felt her Crazy Sookie smile coming on and she fought it. "I live the life of a nun. It allows my telepathy to flow more easily, and that, after all, is why you are interested in me."

Felipe's look turned less predatory, "Of course." He stood and offered her his hand, "It was a long flight from Hartford. I am sure you must be tired from your travels. Allow me to accompany you to your room," and the gentleman was back.

As they shuffled through the corridors, Felipe pointed out one treasure after another. He was a collector of sorts. He preferred dark woods and ornate carvings. Fixtures were gold-plated or painted in colors. Any one piece looked almost gaudy, but the overall effect was charming. Sookie couldn't explain it, but she appreciated the artistry of the display.

There was a staircase, and then a long corridor before the King stopped before a set of doors. "I'll need breadcrumbs to find my way back here," Sookie smiled.

"I am a good guide," Felipe smoldered a little and, lifting her hand, kissed her palm. It was a sensual kiss and well done, and Sookie blushed again at her body's reaction.

"I think I'd better stick to the bread," Sookie smiled, "You are a dangerous man."

Of course it was the right thing to say, and Felipe's eyes lit up. "You are just noticing? Ah, but you mustn't think me dangerous to you, my dear Miss Stackhouse. I would be anything but dangerous!" and he stared into her eyes as he ran his thumb over her palm. His nostrils flared, "You do smell enchanting!" he said and Sookie had the impression it was almost involuntary.

"You already knew that," she told him, then pulling her hand from his, said, "Good night, Felipe. I look forward to seeing you on your rising."

"I will have someone come for you," the King bowed. "Until tomorrow."

Sookie walked into the suite of rooms. There was a room with a couch, chairs, and a television, and through the open double doors, Sookie spotted a truly large bed. As she suspected, her clothes were already hanging in the closet or neatly folded in drawers. It all looked so luxurious until you realized it was also a good way to spy. Sookie glanced at the chandelier over the couches and the lights near the bed. For some reason, she looked up and saw the mirror on the ceiling. While it was off-putting, Sookie knew there were practical reasons for it. Likely there was a camera behind the mirror and cameras in the other room as well.

"Is this also your playroom, Felipe?" she murmured, figuring her voice was being recorded and the King would get a kick out of listening to it later.

Surveillance of your enemies was a way of life with older vampires and Felipe, for all his charm, would not trust her, nor would Sookie expect him to. They hadn't seen each other in a long time and their relationship back then was strained, if one put a kind word to it. Mostly, Sookie hated the Nevada King's guts, and hated him even more for his part in Eric's marriage contract.

As she took her pajamas into the bathroom to change, Sookie admitted that her hatred didn't burn so brightly any more. She supposed she had Rick to thank for that. It was hard to hate when you had a child in your life. He depended on her, and his life brought her joy. Most days, she felt that she was the winner in the end because she had been able to keep some part of Eric, and it was more than she ever hoped.

Not being able to call Rick that night was hard. She longed to hear his voice, but it would give Felipe too much information. Sookie would not call or text anyone at home. She would rely on Mr. Cataliades to handle that. Although she hadn't seen the demon yet, she had no doubt he was aware of her arriving, and they'd be seeing each other soon. He would have a way of communicating, so her son would know she arrived and was well.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

For three nights Sookie and Felipe met to talk. Most evenings, their conversations also involved several hours spent with Mr. Cataliades. Together they hammered out the terms of the arrangement; how would Felipe contact Sookie, the maximum number of nights Sookie would work, how Sookie would be paid. Maintaining her independence was the point they wrangled over the most. Sookie was asking for protection, but insisted she would maintain her true base as a secret from her employer. Felipe argued that, as that employer, he could best protect Sookie if she was living with the rest of his retinue in Las Vegas.

Sookie argued that her telepathy would suffer if she was forced to be exposed to the hustle and bustle of living in a palace, even one removed from the city. Felipe argued he could just as easily set up a house for her that would allow her solitude, and still be within the sphere of his influence.

Sookie used every trick she'd learned in her years of working with high maintenance people, flattering and teasing by turns. She told the King that mystery was the privilege of any woman, and it made Felipe laugh. "In the end, what does it matter if I'm available when you need me?" Sookie challenged.

"But what if I would like to pursue other possibilities?" Felipe teased back, and then moved a little closer to Sookie. When Sookie startled, the King took on a decidedly mischievous look, and inched closer still.

"What next?" Sookie asked. "Are you going to chase me around the dining room table?"

"Would you run if I tried?" Felipe laughed. "I am a vampire, after all. I love to chase!"

Sookie managed to laugh, and even made it sound light-hearted, but the King's words reminded her of other chases and she found that keeping her smile in place becoming difficult. "While I am flattered," Sookie said quietly, "I have to repeat, I do not intend to have a personal relationship with any employer, no matter how charming."

"That you find me charming gives me cause for hope!" Felipe flirted again.

In truth, Felipe was intrigued. For years, the Viking had turned himself inside out for this woman. He tolerated her outrageous behavior and allowed her to embarrass him. He made excuses for her and almost lost his own life trying to protect her. Felipe had thought Northman touched or stupid, but there was something in Sookie Stackhouse's manner, her attractive person, that was changing Felipe's mind.

If he was really honest with himself, Felipe had to admit a large part of his attraction was his desire to sample the Viking's pet for himself. Was spending time between her legs worth all the trouble the Viking brought on himself so many years ago? Granted, Sookie wasn't quite so fresh looking as she had been, but her breasts still appeared firm, and her hips, if anything, were rounder. She had that truest of hourglass figures, and Felipe looked forward to seeing her encased in gowns built to highlight her assets. She would be stunning, and she could use the distraction to pick secrets from the minds of the males who would doubtless flock to her.

Finally, the contract was concluded. Sookie would commit to five assignments during the year. Each assignment would be no longer than four nights. If extra nights were needed, then they would be negotiated in advance. There was a bank account that would be set up and money would be placed there for Sookie. Sookie could withdraw the funds at will. In addition to the fee for her services, Felipe would also pay all her travel expenses, including a clothing allowance.

Sookie's privacy would be respected, and the King pledged not to attempt to follow or otherwise discover her base without her express permission. The King would make it known that Sookie was under his protection and that any transgressors would have to deal with the King directly. If others wanted to contract for Sookie's services, Sookie would negotiate the contract herself, but she would pay a percentage of what she earned to Felipe as a finder's fee.

"How do I know you'll be safe?" Felipe asked.

Mr. Cataliades laughed then, "Our Miss Stackhouse is under the protection of one of the most powerful witches in North America," he told the Nevada King. "She is here because she wants to work for you, not because she needs to."

On their last night together before the Denver Summit, Felipe asked Sookie to walk with him in his garden. It was an oasis of flowers and the heavy perfume filled the night air. There were fountains spraying water and the desert sky stretched above them. Felipe wrapped a wool stole around Sookie's shoulders. The days here were warm, but the nights could turn bitter. Felipe, as a vampire, didn't notice the temperature change, but Sookie did, and she appreciated his thoughtfulness.

As Felipe guided her from planting to planting, he made a point of brushing against her. It seemed innocent. A pressure on her shoulder as he pointed out a rare bloom, a proprietary hand against her back, turning her down a path, an accidental touch of a breast immediately followed by an apology. Each touch was brief. Each touch appeared casual, but, by the end of the tour, Sookie found she was not immune. Her nerves were on edge and her body poised for more stimulation.

They were at the end of a path and Felipe produced a scarf, "With your permission."

"Whatever for?" Sookie started to back away.

"The jasmines here are so delicate. Each has a different scent and if you would allow me to bind your eyes, you will be able to experience them more fully." Felipe stood in front of her, the scarf lying across his hands. Sookie could feel her nipples hard and erect, but she couldn't bring herself to run away.

"I'm trusting you," she told him. "No funny business!"

"You are delightful!" Felipe laughed and he indicated she should give him her back. He tied the scarf in place, and then ran his hands down her shoulders and then her arms, and then he was gone.

"First," he whispered close to her, "There is this one." Sookie sniffed and was rewarded by a scent that was almost a ghost on the wind. It was sweet and a little citrusy. As she smelled, her mouth opened a little. The next time Felipe spoke, he was a little closer. "This one has just a hint of spice," he told her. Sookie sniffed obediently, and was rewarded with a perfume that she wished she could wear every day.

Four more times Felipe presented her with blossoms, each unique. Finally, he said, "You can remove your blindfold, Miss Stackhouse, and tell me which was your favorite." As Sookie reached her hands behind her to untie the knot, the King captured her lips.

Felipe was an expert kisser and he worked hard to overcome the way Sookie froze. He didn't touch her anywhere but where their lips joined, but his tongue traced the seam of hers and, in her confusion, Sookie gasped. It was all the invitation Felipe needed and he swept her into his arms, pressing her against him.

"Stop!" Sookie exclaimed, ripping the blindfold from her face and trying to twist away. "No!"

To give him credit, Felipe immediately dropped his arms and stepped back, "I apologize, Miss Stackhouse," he said and he dropped into a low bow, "I was overtaken by the moment. I made a mistake."

"You bet you did, Buster!" Sookie bristled. "I don't remember asking you to court me, and I sure don't remember asking you to feel me up!"

"I am embarrassed," Felipe said a little too smoothly. "I hope this won't destroy our working relationship. I promise, I will mind my manners…" and then he looked at Sookie in an interested way, "Unless you invite me."

Sookie was pulling her dignity together, "I appreciate that," she said, channeling every snooty dowager she'd ever met.

Felipe offered his arm, but, when Sookie just gave him a cold look, he gestured at the right path and allowed her to lead the way back into the palace.

Sookie would leave the next morning and Felipe went back to his security room to have them run videos captured from her suite. There were tantalizing glimpses of firm, rounded flesh, and even a shot of her trimmed mound.

Angie, his child, walked up behind him, "I expected you would be there," she indicated the video feed of the room with a jerk of her chin.

"To tell you the truth, I did as well. She doesn't wear a ring, although her desire to keep her home base a secret would suggest a lover. Perhaps she has that human proclivity to faithfulness."

"Perhaps," Angie sniffed. "Do you really find that attractive?"

"I do," Felipe nodded. "Now that I've spoken with her, I must admit I find her more desirable than before. There is something about the combination of an attractive body and intelligence that makes me want to bury myself. I remember someone saying she tastes of Fae. I will sample all she has to offer in time, and then, when the time is right, I will rub it in the Viking's nose."

"What do you care about Eric Northman?" Angie laughed. "He's a consort, a nothing!"

"I find I enjoy reminding him of his place," Felipe shrugged, "and the delightful Miss Stackhouse will help me."


	9. Chapter 9 - Dust Devils

**Chapter 9 – Dust Devils**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Sookie would long remember the profound sense of relief she felt just standing in the driveway of the house in Chester. Her flight back from Las Vegas and King Felipe de Castro was delayed in Chicago, and instead of arriving before school let out, it was nearing dark. The lights were already on and the lamps from inside the house spilled their gold gently through the windows as the last pinks and oranges stained the horizon. As Sookie stood and watched, the last light of day slipped away.

Perhaps it was being older, or being in a place that was slower-paced and less involved with jobs and money, but Sookie found she noticed nature with a new intensity. It was more than deciding that the sun made it a good day for tanning (which she never did in a bathing suit anymore). It was standing still for sunsets and lifting her face to the feel of an unexpected breeze. Sookie noticed birds in trees and bees buzzing among wildflowers. It was as if her life consisted now of periods of time interacting with people, and then longer periods of sinking back into a comfortable place where she was part of the natural world around her, moving in a rhythm that was both old and comforting.

Rick came bounding out of the house, "You're late!" he told her. The hug he gave her was brief and then he walked past her to the trunk of their old car to pull out the suitcase.

"Delayed flight," Sookie replied, but her real attention focused on memorizing her son's face and checking for anything new or changed. "Nice uniform," she told him.

"Please tell me I don't have to stay at Chester through high school," he sighed. Chester Academy required their students to wear uniforms. Rick would start in less than a month and his uniforms were ordered before Sookie left for Vegas. Apparently, they'd arrived.

"It does make things easier," Sookie squeezed her son around his waist, walking toward the house beside him. He was growing again and easily reached her eyebrows. There was no doubt with his big feet and long, thin fingers that he would be tall. The doctor put him in the top percentile and always remarked on it when they had Rick's iron levels checked.

"It's like being in the military!" Rick moaned as if that was a bad thing.

"You'll see. Everyone will be in the same boat and that gives you all something to talk about on the first day, how much wearing uniforms sucks." It seemed bizarre. Only a few hours ago, she'd been dodging Felipe de Castro, playing a game Sookie knew had nothing to do with affection and everything to do with power. Now, half a world away, she stood in the growing night, talking with her pre-teen son about school and dress codes.

As they climbed the stairs, her boy asked, "So, how'd it go?" He was making an effort not to look at her, and Sookie realized he was waiting for her to brush him off.

"I'll tell you all about it once we get inside and settled," Sookie replied. He looked up at her then, his blue eyes that she could see were so like Eric's, clear and focused. He smiled, and Sookie saw once more how being honest with him had been the best thing. There were things she would tell him about the trip, but she also knew there were things she would only share with Fran.

Fran had returned to Boston. Lora was here.

Lora had announced she would be relocating to Chester. Of course, she was very close to them. She had been there from the night Rick was born and she was the person who spoiled him most. Lora had been married for a long time, but recently her marriage had fallen apart. There were friends who were Lora's, like Fran, but, as it turned out, most of her friends were 'mutual' friends. When she and her husband separated, Lora found that while her husband was invited to dinners and parties, she was not. In the end, it seemed that having an unattached male at the table was easy. Having an unattached female at the table was awkward.

Lora was living in an apartment over the post office. She'd refused to take up a room at the B&B (Rick deserves college. You need your income!) and had roomed with Sarah for a period of time. Now, every morning, she came over to the B&B and helped with the work. It was already agreed that whenever Sookie traveled, Lora would move into Sookie's rooms and stay until she returned. Sookie was sorry for her friend's troubles, but she was also grateful at how fate seemed to make things work out.

As for Fran in Boston, the older woman was on her fifth or sixth woman trying to take Lora's place in her life. The stories had Sookie in stitches. Fran alternately despaired or terrorized, but no one seemed to last more than a week or two. Sookie had no doubt that, eventually, Fran would be worn down by the whole thing, decide to become less particular, and 'settle' for one of the doubtless fully, capable women who were coming through her door.

"So, when is your first job?" Lora asked as she laid the dinner dishes.

"Next month," Sookie answered. She headed for her bedroom to freshen up. She could hear Lora in the kitchen behind her, scolding Rick, telling him his Mother wasn't going anywhere, and to change out of his uniform before dinner. The sound of Rick's feet on the stairs sounded like a stampede and Sookie smiled again to be surrounded by the sounds and feel of home.

Over dinner, Sookie told the highlights. She talked about the contract and how many jobs were now expected in any one year. She talked about the number of nights that would require her to be away from home, and how she had refused to work holidays. "We'll probably be a little jammed up for vacations," Sookie warned. "I couldn't very well demand school breaks without the King figuring some things out."

"You're sure he doesn't suspect?" Lora asked.

"He suspects something," Sookie nodded. "He tried about a dozen different ways to get me to move out there, you know, 'within his dominion.'"

"Do they really talk that way?" Rick asked.

"Some of them," Sookie nodded. "Some vampires haven't been around all that long, but some are really old." Sookie couldn't stop the small smile that formed on her lips, "Your Father is over a thousand-years-old." She could see Rick's eyes widen. "That's right. He was a Viking, a real one. He speaks languages that are long gone and he's seen things that you learn about in history books. He lived through all those moments that changed everything," and just telling Rick made Sookie admire and miss Eric all the more.

"I saw one," Rick announced, and Sookie found her fork suspended in midair.

"One, what?" Lora asked.

"A vampire," Rick shrugged, loading his fork with more potatoes.

"Where was that, Son?" Sookie asked carefully.

"In town," Rick answered, oblivious to the descending silence around him. "There's a woman with kids who's married to a vampire. They're here enrolling them at Chester and Morris. Mrs. Rice heard them complaining that there were no light-tight rooms anywhere around and she asked me if we had any."

"What did he look like, this vampire?" Sookie tried to keep her voice light.

"I don't know. Dark-haired. Tall. He had a southern accent and he seemed nice enough. He felt weird, though."

"Weird, how?" Lora asked. She'd slipped her hand under the table and was holding Sookie's.

"You know," and Rick shrugged and then tapped his forehead. "Up here."

Now Sookie sat back. "You never mentioned you were hearing others," she said to her son. She could hear the slight, accusing tone she'd used, and so she added, "Are you? What does it feel like?"

"I don't hear anyone," he shrugged. "Not like voices. No, it's more like being able to pick out who's happy and who's not. I can pick out angry all the way across town!" and he grinned.

Sookie smiled weakly. "That's great, Ricky," she said and was rewarded by her son's scowl for using his baby name.

"So why did the vampire feel different?" Lora asked.

Rick put his fork down, and the women could see he was giving it serious consideration. "First, he kind of looked at me funny. It was like he was trying to see into my head, sort of like a headache coming on." Sookie said nothing, but she felt a chill as her son described glamour. "He asked if I was from around here, which I told him I sure was. Anyway, the other part was while the woman he was with was normal, his head was kind of, I don't know, empty. He felt like a cold spot in the room." Rick shrugged and picked up his glass, drinking down the last of his milk. "Anyway, I'll be able to spot another one right off, now that I know what to look for," he announced.

"I wonder if you've encountered Weres yet," Lora asked, picking up the conversation, so Sookie would have time to recover.

"Weres? I'm not sure," Rick was aware that they existed since Weres, like vampires, were mainstreaming and Lora had told him everything she knew about them.

That night, after Rick retired to his room to get ready for school the next morning, Sookie sat down and called Fran. She told Fran about the trip and Felipe's being creepy with her, "He was testing, Fran. I'm sure of it."

"It could be he's just a horny vampire. From what I hear, they all are. Feed and fuck. Isn't that their reputation? You were fresh meat and available."

"He can get younger and fresher," Sookie replied. "There were women all over the place out there. It's Vegas and he has money. It was like watching fruit flies on two-day-old cantaloupe!"

"Well," Fran teased back, "You are awful sweet!"

"It was counting coup," Sookie sighed. "He brought up Eric, and then I knew what it was all about."

"Then you have a decision to make. You can keep turning him down, which will just make him chase harder, or you can sleep with him and destroy the illusion."

Sookie barked a quick laugh, "Oh, my God! I think I just threw up in my mouth a little!" Sookie sighed, "I choose the two-step! I don't have to see him too often. I'll manage." Then Sookie told Fran about Rick's newest revelation and the fact that a vampire had shown up and appeared to have tried glamour on her son.

"It's possible the vampire saw something that made him suspicious," Fran agreed. "although Rick is young, and the resemblance isn't that striking yet. I wouldn't worry about it, but you know the folks at Chester. If they were enrolling kids, there will be records of both names. Ask, and when they refuse to tell you, pull it out of their heads!"

"You are not a nice woman," Sookie laughed.

"You don't survive in this world by being a nice woman," Fran snarked back.

Sookie determined she would follow-up, though. Too much was at stake, still, it took almost a week before she found herself having tea with the head of admissions at Chester. It was a small town, and everyone knew everyone, so the woman chuckled when Sookie asked about vampires sending kids. "You, too?" she asked. "I can't decide if it's prejudice or some kind of grim curiosity."

"Option two for me," Sookie grinned. "Although I wouldn't call it 'grim.' No, let's call it nosey, none of my business, but kind of exciting curiosity!"

"The children are not vampires, of course," the woman answered. "They are from Louisiana…" and Sookie felt her smile freeze. "Apparently they've been married for several years now, ever since they changed the law. Nice people. She's Lily and he's Rubio…" and Sookie felt the chill rush through her. It was possible there was another Rubio who was a vampire from Louisiana, but somehow she doubted it. The vampire who had come to town was most likely Rubio Hermosa. He and Sookie knew each other pretty well. He had never been to her house, but he'd met her plenty of times. He'd helped carry out the plan to kill Victor Madden and, since he was a vampire, he would remember her immediately.

What's more, he knew Eric Northman. She thought again about his meeting Rick and trying glamour. "Are you feeling alright?" Sookie's friend asked her.

"Fine, fine," Sookie recovered, but as she set her teacup on the table, Sookie could see her hand was shaking.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

For a few days, Sookie could almost pretend that nothing had changed. There were guests to be served and breakfasts to be made. Rick would get up early and rush out the door, anxious to spend the last days of summer with his friends. Rick's kayak was only one of a flotilla of boats the kids his age seemed to have accumulated and they could be seen all day out on the small lake. Rick told his Mother they were planning an overnight on one of the tiny islands, and Sookie was both happy and envious.

It was in the second week that Sookie found herself sitting at the kitchen table, making a list of the things she'd need for the Denver Summit. She wouldn't leave for another two weeks. There was no need for her to be assembling lists so soon and it gave her pause. There were so many other things that needed to be done, but this was what she was doing, and then it occurred to her. She was looking forward to Denver in a way she hadn't anticipated something in a long time.

For so many years, Sookie had settled into her life as 'Rick's Mom.' She built her center around driving her son to his commitments and making friends with the parents of his friends. She made a place for herself in town that allowed her to support those things Rick needed, like school fundraising and the library. Sookie hosted playdates with school mates, and most evenings she had 'family' dinners that included students from school who were boarding and didn't get home-cooked meals often. Sookie had spent ten years here in Chester being Mrs. Hale, and now, suddenly, she was Sookie Stackhouse again, and she felt guilty about how wonderful it felt.

When Rick came home that night, Sookie found herself telling him the story of the first time she'd seen his Father. She described the nightclub and how Eric had summoned her from across the room. She told him how her then-boyfriend had been angry, but how she'd thought of Eric Northman well into the night lying on her bed at Gran's house. That story led to other stories about growing up in Bon Temps.

For the first time, Sookie told her son about her family. When she told him he had an uncle, she saw a bit of the old resentment creep back in Rick's eyes. "You have a cousin, too. He's older than you and he's a telepath, like me. I don't know where he is, but it may be time to go looking for him."

"Do you think I'll become a telepath?" Rick asked.

"I don't know," Sookie shrugged, "but I think that over time you'll grow into things. My Gran, your Great-Gran, used to say that things come when they're needed. I think gifts are like that." Sookie leaned over and placed her hand over Rick's, "Don't rush to grow up too soon," she begged him. "Life will come all too quick. Enjoy this time as long as you can."

Rick glanced at the yellow-lined pad of paper on the table, "You're happy to be working with vampires again, aren't you?"

It was on the tip of Sookie's tongue to say 'no', but she knew that wasn't the honest answer. "I'm not sure if it's working with vampires, or just being out in that world again," she told her son. "It's different and things seem so much more…"

"Serious?" Rick asked.

"Exciting," Sookie told him. "Like the Summit in Denver. These Summits are all pretty much the same. It's a chance for vampires to get together and talk. There aren't many of them, vampires, I mean. Eric, your Father, told me one time how they were organized. For example, they have broken the United States into four Clans. Denver is in Zeus Clan." Sookie was surprised how much she remembered. She told Rick about kingdoms and politics. She told him about attending the Summit in Rhodes and what she saw there. He was round-eyed when she talked about the Britlingens and Queen Sophie-Ann.

"So my Father was just a Sheriff then?" Rick asked.

"A powerful Sheriff," Sookie nodded. "Because of his age he had a lot of influence."

"What happened to the Queen?" Rick asked, and, taking her time, Sookie told him.

After she finished, Rick didn't speak for a bit. Sookie could see him turning over the information and finally, he said, "So, let me get this straight. This King, Felipe, killed the Queen and now you're working for him."

"He could have killed your Father, too," Sookie explained, "but he didn't. He spared him." Sookie figured they'd had enough sharing for one night, "Rick, I'm not sure how I'd explain everything that happened, but what I can tell you is I don't hold a grudge. A takeover is a violent event for vampires and always has been. They don't behave like we do. They are… I guess, more primal. Their world is still kill or be killed. They plot and scheme. If Sophie-Ann had been stronger, she would have survived, but she had money troubles, and when she became physically injured, she was too weak." Sookie found herself thinking about Andre who had been killed at Rhodes. Andre would have protected Sophie-Ann and Sookie thought about how lonely it must have been for the Queen when she faced the stake that took her.

"It doesn't sound like a world I'd be excited to be a part of," Rick said quietly.

"I don't think I'm giving you a very even picture," Sookie apologized. "There are times that are wonderful, too!"

"Yeah, sure," Rick rolled his eyes. "So what do you think you'll have to do at this Summit?"

"Listen," his Mother replied. "Felipe will want to know what people have heard or if there's anyone there thinking about causing trouble. I'll probably have to sit with him in his meetings and he'll expect me to spend time talking with people at the parties."

"They have parties?" Rick asked.

"They do," Sookie nodded. "Like I said, they don't get together much, so these Summits are about business, but also socializing. They like to pick cities where they can get out and…" Sookie almost said 'play,' but she changed it at the last minute to 'see the sights.' "Then, there's the reception every night and the big ball at the end."

"Ball? Like a Disney ball with dancing?" and Rick kind of laughed.

"Yes! Like Disney and dancing, Smarty!" and Sookie swatted Rick's hand.

That night as she finished picking up, she thought about the upcoming ball and, for the first time, she considered the possibility that Eric Northman might be in Denver, too.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Mr. Cataliades contacted Sookie to let her know she'd be expected in Las Vegas two days ahead of the Summit. Including the event itself, there would be one extra day needed for travel and the fee Felipe offered was generous.

Sookie packed her new business clothes and took the train to New York, and then the connecting trains to La Guardia Airport. She decided flying out of the City was more anonymous than the easier trip from Hartford. Sookie felt the inconvenience was offset by the greater security.

School had started the week before, and Sookie returned from the market to find her son sitting across the table from a boy he introduced as George Hermosa. "George is in my class," Rick told her, "and his Dad's a vampire." Sookie could hear her son's unfinished phrase, the one where he said his was, too. By the time dinner was finished, there was no doubt. George was the adopted son of Rubio Hermosa, and he couldn't wait to introduce his parents to the Hales when they visited next in October.

Sookie had a long talk with Rick after George left. She scolded him for calling attention to them, and let him know what a difficult position he'd put them in. "How can I protect you if you broadcast where we are?" she asked.

"I deserve to know where I come from!" Rick snapped.

Rick wanted to know when he could meet his relatives in Louisiana. He wanted to know when he could stop hiding. He told her he would lay low as long as she could give him a date when the lying would end. The talk turned into an argument and, after some harsh words, Sookie told him that when Rick was fourteen, they would figure something out.

That night while she talked with Fran, she felt drained. "How do I make this right?" she asked.

"Well, you knew this couldn't be forever. He is still a boy, but he's not a baby. Fourteen is a good age. Sixteen would have been better," and Fran sighed. "When you showed up at my house, I thought I'd never seen a braver, more foolish woman. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Sookie. You have a couple years. You'll figure it out."

Now, Sookie was standing in a line with other members of Felipe de Castro's retinue in Las Vegas, getting her instructions, and she worried that Rick would never be ready for this. "This is your agenda," Angie handed Sookie the page. Each night was outlined and there were specific instructions for where Sookie needed to be. Most nights, she was to accompany the King. She would be required at all his business meetings. She was to attend a presentation by Moshup Summit on solar technology, and she was to spend time at the beginning of each night in the exhibitor's hall, 'collecting.'

There were two lines on the second night that said, 'King's Discretion.' "What are these?" Sookie asked Angie.

"Private meetings," Angie sniffed. "Felipe will only have a few of us with him. If there are only vampires in the room, he won't need you. If there are others, you will be required to attend," and then Angie said, "Oh! And those lines where there is an asterisk," and Angie pointed at several lines, including the closing ball, "We're having a wardrobe delivered. The dresses are labeled. Make sure you wear the right one to these."

"I brought my own clothes," Sookie couldn't help but feel suspicious.

"You'll wear what you're provided," Angie said pleasantly, but then she dropped fang to make sure Sookie understood it wasn't something to be discussed.

There were three other people in their party. There was a secretary whom Sookie suspected was Felipe's current companion, an accountant, and Mr. Cataliades. While Desmond had bowed to her, he didn't go out of his way to be friendly, and Sookie wondered what was going on with him.

Once they were dismissed, the attorney approached Sookie, "Have you had supper?" he asked. When she indicated she hadn't, he said, "Why don't we take a trip into town? I don't believe you've had the pleasure of eating on the Strip. If you aren't too tired, we could even take in a show. The King's status allows us access to any venue. You may take your pick."

It was smoothly done and within an hour, they were seated next to each other in the main restaurant at Mandalay Bay.

As soon as the waitress left, the attorney pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed her home number. Lora picked up and handed the phone to Rick. Sookie could tell her son wasn't alone, and he gave her the bare minimum for answers. After five painful minutes, Rick handed the phone back to Lora. Sookie heard Lora walking and figured she was moving to another part of the house. "He's with George again," Lora told her. "They've spent most of this afternoon talking about blood and donors when I'm not supposed to be able to hear. Rick is getting one heck of an education, but I can't fault George. Rick is relentless, a regular Mr. Twenty Questions."

When Sookie hung up the phone, Mr. Cataliades was watching her. "It is probably more than just idle curiosity now," the attorney chided her. "He may be experiencing cravings he doesn't understand. He may be manifesting other symptoms he can't explain. You need to take him to see your friend, Amy Ludwig. She will be able to tell you what part of this is his need to know and what part of this is his need."

Sookie couldn't argue anymore. Ignoring this was only making the situation worse. "I'll contact her when I get home," Sookie agreed. "I'm sure she can answer his questions better than I can. It's just he looks like everyone else. He's had a great childhood. He has friends."

"There's nothing that says that needs to change," Desmond assured her. He reached for her phone and added the contact information for Doctor Ludwig. "Do both of yourselves a favor," and he gave Sookie a direct look, "Call her as soon as you can. I'm sure you've warned him about his behavior, but like every adolescent, he won't listen to his Mother. Amy will read him the riot act and I suspect he'll listen to her."

Sookie snort-laughed, thinking of the diminutive, fiery Amy Ludwig backing up her gangly son. "I've seen her scare grown vampires. I'm sure she can handle one hard-headed, bratty boy." When the attorney nodded, Sookie said, "So, what's going on with you? I hardly see you anymore."

"I have been erring on the side of caution," Mr. Cataliades told her. "I am in a contract with the King that requires me to carry forward a number of assignments," and he paused to give Sookie a look.

"You going to get yourself killed over these assignments?" Sookie asked.

"I certainly hope not," the demon sat back and laced his hands across his belly, "but if that should be the outcome, I'd prefer not to implicate anyone else."

"Sounds like you're in a bit of a pickle," Sookie said cautiously.

"It will teach me for thinking myself infallible," the demon nodded. "Let that be a warning to you. Just because someone is thinking something, it doesn't mean that it's true. It appears that the King is aware of my ability to read others, and he used that knowledge to his advantage."

"How much longer does he have you?" Sookie asked.

"Another year," Mr. Cataliades sighed. "Still, no use crying over spilled milk. Let's use our time to walk through what our employer has been doing."

Mr. Cataliades spent the next hour outlining the various plots Felipe de Castro was playing. During salads, the attorney described how the King was using his influence in both Narayana and Amun territories to make Stan Davis feel himself hemmed in by enemies. Once the main course arrived, the demon talked about the bribes that had been paid to buy friendships in Moshup, and even Zeus. After the plates were cleared, Desmond leaned forward and said, "Felipe feels his ace in the hole is Freyda of Oklahoma. He is certain that since he supported her claim to Mr. Northman, the Queen will favor him. Felipe has even gone as far as to hint that he would support Freyda being named Clan Chief should Stan fall."

"So, do you think she'll take Felipe up on it?" Sookie could hear how weak her voice sounded. All she could see was the tall, thin, beautiful woman who had shown up at her house in Louisiana, wanting to see the human who was pledged to the vampire she wanted.

"I know you have no reason to trust or like Freyda," Mr. Cataliades said with a knowing glance, "but she is probably blameless in this. I will say that she has handled herself very well in this matter. She has dodged all efforts to have her declare her intentions. She has led Felipe on one merry chase after another."

"So no answer, then?" Sookie sipped her coffee.

"Felipe is certain he will have Oklahoma's answer at this Summit. She told him she would be here," and then the attorney stopped talking and waited, allowing the pieces to fall into place for Sookie.

"So…" and Sookie licked her lips, "So, if Freyda is here, then…"

"It is likely she will bring her consort, yes," Mr. Cataliades finished for her.

When Sookie didn't say anything, the attorney nodded, "There is something else you should be prepared for," he told her. "You will likely see others you know, vampires from Amun and Zeus. Don't expect them to acknowledge you. You are standing beside someone they don't trust, someone they may view as an enemy. You will be registered under your actual name as a member of Felipe de Castro's personal retinue. I would suggest you restrict your social activities to the King's companion…"

"Amber," Sookie named the King's secretary.

"Indeed," Mr. Cataliades acknowledged. "She is not bright but, if you are with her, it will suggest that she is the one with the very personal relationship with the King."

"I don't feel so good about any of this," Sookie sighed.

"You aren't meant to," the attorney agreed. "It's a job for which you are being well-paid. We arrive in a great show, we do what is necessary, and when the Summit is over, you are transported to the airport, and you get to go home."

"Why don't you come visit me?" Sookie offered. "You've come before."

"I have obligations at the moment that are keeping me here," Mr. Cataliades said evasively and, before Sookie could try to persuade him further, he called for the check and they were on their way back to the palace.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

The fleet of limos that transported Felipe de Castro and his retinue from the Denver Airport to the hotel were all white. Sookie couldn't help cringing. To her, after all her time in New England where money was never flashed about, it looked like the clown circus coming to town.

Felipe insisted Sookie ride in his car and he seated her beside him. That placed Amber, Felipe's assistant and current bed warmer, on the seat facing them. Amber amused herself for most of ride by crossing and re-crossing her legs, each movement causing her skirt to ride up a little higher.

Of course, Felipe noticed, but he didn't leer or make any comment to encourage. Instead, Felipe spent the half-hour walking through the agenda with Sookie. There were no repeats of his previous behavior, in fact, Felipe had been nothing but a gentleman. He complimented Sookie when she made a good observation and he laughed at her jokes. He did compliment her appearance, but only when he complimented others, and he kept it light. Whatever he was doing, it was working, and Sookie found she was relaxing around him.

Tonight, Sookie was wearing a conservative skirt. It was fitted a little more across her backside than she liked, but the shoes that were waiting for her weren't skyscrapers, and she figured she could make it into the hotel without falling on her face. She was also wearing a blazer that carried Felipe's monogram. She considered it her uniform of sorts.

The accountant and Amber had blazers that matched hers. The accountant was riding in the second car with some of the bodyguards. Felipe also had a third car with personal servants who would do all the things a hotel staff would normally handle. They'd wear their full livery like in Las Vegas and Sookie figured that was so folks would see pieces of Felipe everywhere they looked. ' _Like spreading manure_ ,' she thought, looking out the window.

When they pulled up to the hotel, the door was opened, and Amber bounced out. Sookie took the offered hand next, and Felipe followed. As Sookie took a deep breath in preparation to walk into the crowded hotel lobby, Felipe said quietly, "Are you ready for the pimp walk?"

"What do you mean?" Sookie couldn't help asking. The way he said it seemed so out of character for the King, almost without accent.

"Do you really think this is me?" he sighed, keeping his voice low. "The exaggerated accent? The flamboyant clothes? The ostentation? Yet it does create a good illusion, one that encourages people to sneer at the cape and ignore the man underneath." Sookie's mouth opened a bit. She knew Stan nurtured a false front, but it hadn't occurred to her the Nevada King might do the same. "Keep that in mind when you put on some of the dresses I've engineered for you, that the point is not to display your flesh for my enjoyment, but to lure in the unwary. I am told there are plots to cause problems for this Summit. Use all your tricks, Miss Stackhouse, to keep everyone here safe, even if that means you have to humiliate yourself for an evening or two."

Then the King moved forward with a swirl of his cape, barely acknowledging the bows of the bell captains, creating a stir in the lobby, and Sookie found herself looking at him with new eyes.

While she stood to the side with Amber and Ted, the accountant, a familiar face walked across the lobby. Rubio Hermosa hadn't changed at all. He was tall, dark, and still handsome. He swept into a bow before her, "I heard you had joined the retinue, Sookie," he greeted her.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Sookie stammered.

"I am here representing the King's Louisiana and Arkansas assets," Rubio answered smoothly. "It's a small retinue but, then, of course, this is far from our territory and we represent a small part of the King's wealth."

It hadn't occurred to Sookie that her old friends would still be under Felipe's rule, but, of course, it should have. Things didn't change quickly in the world of vampires. Their time didn't move the same as it did for humans. She figured for Rubio and the others, the years since Sophie-Ann's fall would still seem like a moment in time, while for Sookie, it seemed almost a lifetime ago. "It's really good to see you," Sookie returned. "How's Indira?" she asked, "And Pam? I've been gone a long time and where I am, I don't get any news."

"We all continue as we always have," Rubio answered. "Fangtasia continues. Business continues. We hunt and prosper."

It was on the tip of Sookie's tongue to ask about his marriage and she only just held herself back. She had to remind herself that while Susan Hale knew about his family, Sookie Stackhouse did not, so she covered by saying, "And you? How are things for you?"

"I am well," he smiled. "I have a family now, a human woman I married. She has children and I've adopted them."

"Congratulations," Sookie replied, relieved she wouldn't have to keep this secret now.

"And what about you?" Rubio asked, "Do you have a child?" There was something about the way he was looking at her that made Sookie blush. "I never married," Sookie said quickly, covering. She couldn't escape the feeling that somehow Rubio knew, or suspected, and she resolved to be extra-vigilant.

Felipe walked toward them, a hotel concierge following. After the keys were distributed and Rubio greeted the King, Felipe said, "There is a small reception for the monarchs this evening. Sookie?" and he looked at her, "You will not be required, so you will be free to accompany Amber to the hotel spa. I have arranged full treatments for both of you. What better way to recover from the stress of travel?" Amber let out a sound that might have been a squeal.

"That's real nice of you," Sookie said automatically. She wasn't fooled. Felipe wanted her to troll for information.

Things were settled and, two hours later, Sookie was face down on a low, padded bench having warmed stones placed on her back. Amber was chirping away with her attendant, asking about waxing services. Sookie opened her mind and listened to those around her.

It was the usual array of thoughts. These were women and men who had accompanied vampires. Only one was also vampire, the rest were human. Sookie didn't understand vampires' reluctance to play with Weres, but she'd heard their blood didn't attract vampires like human blood did, and there was some general prejudice at play as well. Sookie filtered through the humans, touching lust, greed, affection, and, in one case, the despair of a girl who was certain this was the last trip she'd take with the vampire she loved. It made Sookie's heart ache, and she was trying to determine who the girl was when two woman walked out of another part of the spa, talking. "He'll be pissed when he finds out!" one said, her voice almost hissing.

"You got to love a woman with big balls. What was her excuse?" the other was leaning forward.

"Unexpected business emergency. It's great to be a Queen. Like anyone would question you!" her companion returned.

"Does that mean her dreamy consort is here all by his lonesome?" came the question, and Sookie saw, clear as day, just as the woman had seen him earlier, Eric Northman standing in the hotel lobby.

"Hell, girl! I'll help you tap that!" her friend laughed and then they were gone.

The stones on her flesh were warm, almost uncomfortably so, but all Sookie could feel was cold.


	10. Chapter 10 -Neap Tide

Chapter 10 – Neap Tide

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

When Sookie rolled over to look at the bedside clock, she groaned, rolled away, rubbed her eyes, and checked again. She couldn't remember any time in the past ten years she'd slept so late. It was almost noon and there were no messages. No one had knocked on her door or rang her phone, looking for her. Sookie marveled again at the difference it made, working with vampires.

What hadn't changed was her need for coffee and something to eat. She rolled into the bathroom and tried to construct stories she could tell herself to dampen the growling in her stomach and the dull pain that centered between her eyebrows. She texted Amber and jumped in the shower.

When she finished toweling off, she checked her phone. There was no message from Felipe's companion/secretary, but Sookie wasn't surprised. Amber had spent time last night teasing the King, and Sookie had the impression that Felipe liked to pay his debts. It reminded Sookie of mornings she had woken pinned under Eric, having to wriggle and wiggle to get out of the bed. It was crazy, but it never made her angry, in fact, just the opposite. Sighing, Sookie texted Ted instead.

The accountant was up and offered to meet her downstairs for lunch. Ted ran numbers for Felipe's various enterprises. Ted had never married and he loved being associated with Las Vegas. Sookie picked images out of his head featuring the accountant using his base of operations and occupation to pick up women in his travels. Sookie figured if Ted hadn't started working for Felipe, he'd still be living downstairs in his Mother's basement. He didn't sport a comb-over anymore, but his thick middle looked ridiculous wedged into his skinny jeans.

Sookie ate a salad that was very good. There were other humans here, mostly retinue or companions. It wasn't quite the same crowd she'd seen at the spa last night. She figured those people were likely hanging upstairs until the evening programs began.

Ted asked her questions about her personal life that Sookie mostly dodged. He had no idea whom she had been, and Sookie found that to be a welcome change. She tried not to look directly at the accountant since he had a tendency to talk while he chewed. Ted started working harder to try and impress Sookie. He slipped information about famous people he'd met into the conversation and, at one point, lied about the size of his bank account.

"Do you know why Felipe has me on payroll?" Sookie asked after Ted told a particularly big lie.

"I figured you were his back-up plan." Ted shrugged, and Sookie realized Ted assumed Felipe was sleeping with her when he tired of Amber.

"No, Ted, that's not it," Sookie rolled her eyes, wishing she had brain bleach. "I read peoples' minds. Surely you knew that."

Ted smiled in his vacant way, then he blinked once, and once again, "Oh! For real? I thought that was your cover," and his face fell.

"Nope, it's the real deal," Sookie shrugged. She tapped her forehead, "I can hear every time anyone tells a whopper, a near whopper, and a down-right lie. I write it all down and pass it along. That's why I'm here, to be Felipe's personal lie detector."

"Oh," Ted said flatly. Sookie raised her eyebrows, so Ted knew she was on to him, and then she smiled when he reached for his phone and started answering emails. It would make daytime a little lonelier, but Sookie figured it was a better option than another meal alone with Ted, Casanova Accountant.

When lunch was over, Sookie took the stairs up to the ballrooms and walked around. She poked her head into meeting rooms to see the setups. She scoped out the registration tables and then she walked into the exhibitors' hall. Tables were already up, and many of them had flashing lights or other devices designed to lure those attending into stopping to see whatever was being sold. It felt familiar, seeing how similar the exhibits were to the ones Sookie remembered. There were exhibitors selling travel coffins and light-tight security systems. Concierge services seemed to be a hot commodity as well as bonded courier services. Sookie didn't wander in too far. The room was dark and although she could tell she was alone, she felt a chill and decided to head back to her room.

There were no particular clothes designated for tonight, other than her monogramed blazer. Sookie knew her job was to sit quietly on a side chair during presentations and business meetings and take notes. Sookie grabbed the complimentary newspaper and curled into the chair in her room and read until she dozed.

Shortly after sunset, her phone rang. It was Mr. Cataliades telling her they were all expected to meet in the main restaurant downstairs, and she was late.

Sookie walked into the restaurant to find everyone already seated. Felipe was holding court. His bodyguards were arrayed around them. There were other monarchs in the restaurant as well. Sookie didn't remember vampires hanging around the restaurants before, but it seemed that practice had changed.

Amber was eating steak and Ted was, too. Sookie ordered broiled fish. She couldn't see eating a heavy dinner when she'd be sitting in meetings all night. Mr. Cataliades was working on a large salad, which was how Sookie knew he was miserable. Happy demons ate a lot; unhappy demons ate healthy.

"How was your day?" Felipe asked Sookie. He was running his fingers over Amber's shoulder. He reminded Sookie of someone who admired the line of a thing, but didn't really understand it's value. Amber was pretty, beautiful even, but Felipe didn't seem to think about her beyond that.

"It was fine," Sookie smiled. "I slept later than I have in years. Could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw the time."

"Good, then you should be able to keep up with the meetings tonight," Felipe grinned. When Sookie looked concerned, he laughed, "Don't worry! I'll make sure there's coffee ready if you need it!"

"What about me?" Amber preened.

"I'll have other things ready for you," Felipe purred. Amber simpered, but Sookie was willing to put down money that the next Summit would see Felipe with another companion.

"How many meetings are we talking about?" Sookie asked, diverting attention from the all too public display Amber was providing them.

"It's a busy schedule," Felipe acknowledged, "but the third item on the agenda is a professional presentation. That should be around eleven. I want you to take Amber downstairs during that time to see the exhibitors." Sookie wondered when she'd become the designated babysitter, but she schooled her attitude. She didn't have anything against Amber. She was just another silly girl looking for love and money, not necessarily in that order.

As promised, the first meeting was a fairly general presentation, but it did involve a rival territory. There were a fair number of vampires in the room, but there were others. Sookie listened carefully, but nothing of interest was said, either verbally or mentally. The second meeting was boring. They were talking about financial risk balancing and the talk included words like 'hedging' and 'surplus notes.' Sookie felt her eyes crossing, and she was embarrassed at how relieved she felt when it wrapped up and she could escape with Amber.

The exhibitors' hall was crowded. It seemed there were plenty of people who didn't care about arbitrage or risk sharing and were escaping here. Together, Sookie and Amber drifted down the aisles, pausing to pick up give-away items in a little bag they were each presented on arrival. Sookie saw vampires she'd met before, but they turned away from her like she was a bad smell.

"Having fun?" Rubio asked from behind her.

Sookie couldn't help jumping, startled just a little, but she drew a breath, turned, and said, "Not really. I was prepared for the cold shoulder, but folks here take it to a whole new level."

"Vampires, for all we live forever, exist with intensity," Rubio acknowledged.

Sookie was smiling at Rubio, which is why when Bill Compton stepped in front of her, she ran into him. While Sookie blushed furiously, Rubio greeted Bill. When she gathered herself, Sookie pasted her smile in place, "Well, hi, Bill. I didn't expect to see you here."

"It's been many years," Bill replied. He was standing still in that vampire way that was kind of creepy and then he leaned forward a little, "I have been looking for you."

Sookie knew her smile had gone to Crazy Sookie intensity as she said, "Oh." It wasn't a great answer, but she couldn't think of what else to say. Truth was, she hadn't thought of Bill Compton in many years. She glanced away from him, aware of how close he was standing.

Amber chose that moment to walk up. In her thoughtless way, she inserted herself into the space, and Bill took a step back, "Oh! I know you!" she gushed. "You're the vampire with the database!"

Bill's expression changed from intense to carefully civil, "Yes, that's right," and he bowed a little. "That is why I'm here, carrying out the wishes of my King."

Sookie saw that Bill was standing in front of a table displaying disks and offering downloads of the vampire database. She couldn't help but notice how people walked past them, not lingering like they did at other tables. "I should probably move along," Sookie said dryly, "Folks here like to keep their distance from me. I'm probably killing your business."

Bill laughed that weird laugh of his, "This business dried up long ago," he told her. "Those who needed the database have purchased it, and there's not enough new vampires to drive new sales."

"Then why…" and Sookie stopped talking.

"Because my King thinks it's charming to have me show up at every Summit and stand at my table," Bill said, not hiding his bitterness. "He seems to think it will inspire me to come up with another money-making idea that will benefit him."

"You could simply sign it over to the King," Rubio reprimanded him.

"It's mine!" Bill hissed. Bill's reaction was quick and violent, and Sookie was taken aback by the way mild-mannered Bill looked every inch the vampire, but then, just as quickly, he retracted his fangs and Bill the Gentleman slid back in place. "Are you back for good?" he asked Sookie.

"I'm working for Felipe under a contract," Sookie replied. "He's got my services for four more trips, and then we'll see."

Bill reached forward and awkwardly took Sookie's hand. There was something sad about her first love, so Sookie allowed it. "You look wonderful, Sweetheart," he said quietly. "Please don't disappear again."

Amber giggled, but it wasn't a nice laugh, "Oh, Sookie! You have an admirer!" she smirked.

"I should be getting back upstairs," Sookie pulled her hand from Bill. Turning to Amber, she said, "Coming?"

"No," Amber pouted. "Tell Felipe I went to the spa and I'll have something waiting for him when he gets upstairs," and waggling her eyebrows, she turned and flounced away.

Sookie and Rubio walked back toward the elevators. "She's foolish if she thinks she will hold the King's interest for long," Rubio observed.

"Is he still watching me?" Sookie asked. She could feel a prickling feeling all the way down her back.

"Yes, Compton is still staring," Rubio nodded. When the elevator doors closed, Sookie couldn't stop the sigh of relief. "I will alert the bodyguards," Rubio told her.

"Oh, don't be silly!" Sookie pasted a quick smile on her face. "He just startled me is all. He was my boyfriend once upon a time. It just feels awkward, seeing him."

Rubio nodded, but Sookie could tell he wasn't convinced.

When they re-entered the meeting room, several heads swiveled their way. Felipe and Stan Davis were talking and the tension was so thick, Sookie almost took a step back. "That is a groundless accusation," Felipe said smoothly. He reminded Sookie of a snake.

"I'm smarter than you think, Zorro!" Stan snarled. "Don't think you won't pay either! You think I don't know about those shipments across the Panhandle? I heard there was an accident…"

"You had better hope that isn't the case," Felipe leaned in, his voice cold and deadly.

"I'm not saying I had anything to do with it," Stan shrugged, a satisfied smirk on his face. "I'm just a reporter."

"There are courtesies we have always observed," Felipe was starting to step to the side. It almost looked like a flanking maneuver and Stan stepped right along with him.

"Courtesies? Like keeping the interest rates low for friends?" Felipe's eyes were flat, so Sookie figured whatever this meant it must have been a good hit.

"There is no reason for you to fight," and Sookie recognized Russell Edgington. He stepped from the crowd that was on the far side of the Kings and he physically stepped between them. The other vampires in the room seemed ready for a fight, and Sookie could see disappointment on the faces of several. For his part, Rubio stepped back and Sookie realized he was waiting to pull her away if things became physical.

Later, as Rubio walked Sookie to her room, she asked, "Was that as bad as it looked?"

Rubio nodded, "The purpose of this Summit is to broker a détente, but it's going badly. In some ways, it might be better to let them fight, then it would just be the two of them, and this could be settled." Rubio stepped back while Sookie used her key, "It won't be settled, though," Rubio continued, "and I worry that when things do come to a head it will be a bloody affair."

"There's always hope," Sookie said, before she said good night. That night as she lay in bed she thought about the way the Kings had bristled and postured. She thought about how the vampires had stood back from them, almost willing them to battle. Somehow, none of it felt hopeful.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

The next day there was a planned excursion for humans to go into town for shopping. Sookie got on the bus and spent the next few hours lost in gift shopping and generally poking around. She resisted the temptation to buy Rick a cowboy hat. Instead, she settled on a belt buckle. She bought a soft, hand-loomed wrap for Lora and a tooled leather bag for Fran. She made arrangements to have everything shipped, so she wouldn't have to answer questions at the hotel.

Felipe didn't seem interested in tracking down where she lived, but Sookie wasn't fooled. She kept an eye open, watching for surveillance. When she bought things, she kept her phone in her purse. It wouldn't keep the King from tracking her, but at least he couldn't pull video footage.

That night at dinner, it was clear that something was not right between Amber and Felipe. Amber was a clear broadcaster and Sookie was given a full view of the evening before. The King had brought another man into their room, which was fine with Amber until she realized the man was gay, and the King expected them both to service him. When the King pushed Amber away, showing a preference for the male hustler, Amber took exception and she made a scene that didn't end well for her.

When supper ended, Ted tucked his paunch into his jeans and said, "Maybe I should go talk with Amber."

"If you value your balls, I'd suggest you let sleeping dogs lie," Mr. Cataliades observed. Ted blanched and then headed the other direction. "And how is your visit going so far?" the attorney asked Sookie.

"I'm ready to go home," Sookie sighed.

"Well, only two more nights," Mr. Cataliades nodded. "Of course, you could be in contract talks with Ted and myself. Surely your time is spent in a more pleasurable way."

Sookie laughed, "Yup, you got me beat for entertainment, and that's for sure!" Sookie headed back to her room. The dress code for tonight was more provocative. Sookie was expected to wear a tight skirt and a low-cut blouse. Even her bra had been chosen and it both lifted and enhanced, neither of which she needed. She figured she'd look like the stuffing pouring out of a Thanksgiving turkey, but that was the effect she knew the King wanted.

There would be vampires tonight, mostly male. They were not immune to handsome humans and Sookie's job was to distract. Amber was also supposed to be there, but announced she had a headache and wouldn't be attending. Felipe was unconcerned. He explained that while vampires will admire the pet of another, they will honor a prior claim. Sookie, however, was unclaimed, so, dressed as she was, she would trigger hunting instincts, creating the desired distraction.

Sookie was fighting with her own very different instincts. She wanted to hide, sensing the eyes on her. She remembered the King's instructions, though, and self-consciously shifted in her chair, flashing cleavage and thigh. Her face was burning and she had to bite her lips to keep from trembling. That only seemed to draw more notice from those in the room.

The next meeting, Felipe moved her chair, so she was closer to his table and in clear view of those who would sit opposite the King. "You are doing very well," he complimented her. "I realize this is uncomfortable, and I apologize. I'll find a way to make this up to you, but I do understand my audience. As foolish and shallow as it is, it works."

When the next group came in, Sookie was so nervous she dropped her pen. Almost without thinking, she leaned over to retrieve it and when she sat back up, she saw two sets of fangs and dark, piercing eyes fastened on her. She blushed so hard she could feel sweat running down her back, and it took every bit of self-control she could muster not to wiggle in discomfort.

Felipe was triumphant at the end of the meetings. He felt the outcomes and agreements were favorable, and he told Sookie he was in her debt. "Please, let me take you downstairs to the bar. There is music planned, a singer."

They took the elevator downstairs, and Felipe joked with her. He had a light, sure touch with mimicry, and Sookie couldn't stop giggling as he imitated first one and then another of the vampires who'd come through the rooms tonight. "Fools!" he laughed before taking Sookie's hand and kissing it, "To not see beyond the surface to the treasure you are!"

Felipe dropped her hand almost immediately and reminded her of another moment, making it feel like it was not that she had humiliated herself, but that they had pulled some great joke together. It salved her pride and made her smile come more easily.

The bar was crowded. Rubio was standing to one side, speaking with others from Amun. Sookie saw their eyes wash over her before landing, coldly, on Felipe. Sookie watched Rubio murmur something, an excuse, and make his way to their table. Felipe immediately launched into his story, outlining how brilliantly the wonderful Miss Stackhouse had conducted herself and sympathizing over the short-sightedness of men. Drinks were ordered, gin and tonic for her, and blood for the vampires.

The singer took stage and her voice carried, pure and clear over the crowd. By the time her set was over, Sookie realized she'd had two more drinks, and her laughter was a shade too loud. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I guess I'm not used to drinking any more. I should get upstairs."

"Nonsense!" Felipe shushed her. He had his arm across the back of the bench seat, his top shirt button undone. "Just don't have any more to drink and stay for the next set. You'll settle a little more by then and I'll have Rubio walk you up."

"That's real nice of you," Sookie said in a rush, and she realized she really was feeling drunk.

Felipe turned then and his face sobered, "I expected to see your wife," he said, and Sookie knew. She swallowed, and then forced her eyes to lift. Eric Northman was standing to the other side of their table. He glanced at her and she saw loathing in his eyes. She felt hot all over and, for a moment, she thought she'd be sick. He flicked his eyes away from her and focused instead on the King.

"Freyda was called away unexpectedly. She asked that I make her apologies personally. I am sorry I interrupted your evening." He voice was smooth, a courtier's voice.

"You aren't interrupting anything!" Felipe laughed. "Of course, you remember Rubio and the charming Miss Stackhouse." Felipe looked at Sookie in a kindly way, "Sookie is working as my consultant. She drove a hard bargain, but she is well worth it. She has a rare talent and I am most grateful."

"I remember her…talent," Eric kept his eyes on the King. "I see she still dresses well for the occasion."

Sookie's misery flashed to fury, "Well, don't you have a lot of assumptions, Mr. Northman!" she snapped. "At least my contract is just a money exchange. I don't have to put out other favors, and for the record, I don't!"

All the alcohol faded away and Sookie stood, her eyes blazing. "I think I'm done for the evening, Felipe," she announced. "Thank you for an enjoyable evening and I'll see you tomorrow night." She bowed to Rubio and, with her back straight, she headed for the elevators.

As the doors closed, she saw her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her blouse was gaping, her breasts looking as though they were popping out. Her skirt was so tight she could almost see the outline of her panties. She felt her humiliation all over again, but she held her tears until the door to her bedroom was closed.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Eric couldn't help watching Sookie as she stomped away. He remembered that set in her shoulders and the way she held her head when she was angry. He remembered the feel of her fury, how alive it made her. Then he stilled. He could sense the King's eyes on him. "I see you are still fond of her," Felipe purred.

Eric schooled his expression and swung to face the King again. Rubio was looking neutral, but Felipe's look was more than speculative. "I admire a woman who maintains her looks," Eric nodded. "Sookie has done well for her age."

"Of course," Felipe nodded, but Eric could see he wasn't fooled. "Perhaps you would like to join us, now that you have chased my consultant away. We can reminisce about Louisiana and when we were together."

Eric had to hand it to Felipe, he had a rare way with words. "For a moment," he agreed.

"I really am disappointed that Freyda wasn't able to come. It has been too many years since I have seen her. I hear you are well settled," and Felipe signaled the waitress to bring more blood.

"I am content there," Eric nodded. "It has proven a profitable union for both of us."

"Which is what one wishes," Felipe smiled more broadly. "Vampires understand vampires. Things are clearer and what is important comes first." Felipe sipped again, "Of course, like any kingdom, there are those small struggles, those inconveniences. Borders, trade, jealous neighbors: all those petty conflicts that can cause happiness to elude us. But, of course, you don't have those concerns! Even me, with my good relations with California and Utah, still we fight over inconsequential things! A true and strong alliance would make these difficulties go away!"

"True alliances are rare," Eric said noncommittally.

"But what better basis to form such an alliance than mutual interests and old favors," Felipe smiled. "Like our Miss Stackhouse, for instance. When she decided she needed money, who else would she reach out to? It seems like old times, except…" and Felipe let the pause grow. The King leaned forward and his face took on a thoughtful expression, "She has changed. She is more…confident."

The King's voice dropped, sounding as if he was imparting secrets. "I will tell you, Eric, I never understood your attitude toward her before. She was lovely, of course, but the appeal escaped me, but now? Working closer with her, I have come to a new appreciation. It's more than her looks, isn't it? She's clever and smart. She has a style all her own." The King shook his head. "I am intrigued," he shrugged, "More than I should be," and he sat back again and then he grinned.

"Look at me!" Felipe exclaimed, "About to ask advice about courting from her ex-husband! I could be in a Spanish novella," and he waved dismissively at himself. "Well, enough foolishness!" he mock-scolded, "Tell me of yourself!"

Eric spent the next hour telling the King of Oklahoma. He talked about the commerce of the kingdom and the activities in the state. He told the King things that any person could have read in a newspaper about Freyda and himself. He emphasized his pleasure in his Queen and how comfortable their partnership had become. He was free in thanking Felipe because the word of a Consort held no power and they both knew it.

When Eric left, he didn't take the elevator to his rooms. Instead, he took the stairs and walked all the way around the floor, then he took the stairs up one more floor, and did the same thing. His long legs scissored, eating up the corridors, his teeth grinding. He kept seeing her, her head thrown back, laughing at the Spanish King's jokes. He remembered how Felipe's eyes traveled to her cleavage and the proprietary way his arm rested across her back. Sookie may have protested, but the way they were sitting and talking told a different story. The Sookie he knew would only display herself to someone she was intimate with, and there was little being left to the imagination tonight.

Another floor was covered, and then another. He remembered the way her hair was escaping its coil and the way her eyes snapped. She looked rounder, more lush. It made him ache just looking at her.

Another floor and another flashed by. He wasn't running, but he was walking too quickly, his hands fisted. Another set of stairs, a gray staircase that looked like another hallway where he had brought her within his cape and bonded with her. He could still see her, his Sookie, he could still feel her mouth on him.

Eric rounded the corner and a woman was there. She slammed into his chest and dropped an ice bucket. He registered the sound and feel of the ice around him and he was staring down at her. Sookie Stackhouse. Her hair was curling around her face and she was wearing a loose shirt and jeans. She had been crying, he could smell it and his nostrils flared, taking in more of her; wheat and honey and summer rain.

His hands had automatically closed around her upper arms to stop her from falling, and although her mouth was open in surprise, her hands came up between them, running up his chest. "Eric," she whispered so low he wondered if he imagined it.

Her fingers fisted then, capturing his shirt and his mouth was on hers. He wanted to crush her, to hurt her, but she wasn't backing away. She moaned, and, in that moment, he was undone.

"Where is your room?" he growled.

She gestured in back of him. She pulled her key from her pocket and pushed against him. He stepped backward, his mouth on hers. Her hands kept pushing, guiding until they were beside a door. She slapped her key against the pad and the light flashed green. It was Sookie who opened the door, grabbed Eric's waistband, and pulled him inside.

There were some lights on. The room was neat, but Eric didn't have time to look around. Sookie pulled his shirt from his pants and ran her hands up his chest. Eric grabbed her tee-shirt and pulled it from her. His hands cupped her breasts. They fit so perfectly, even better than he remembered. Her nipples were hard as he rubbed his thumbs across them and she moaned again, pressing wet kisses through his shirt.

Their hands moved, alternately drifting and demanding. He didn't want to hurry, but he couldn't taste her soon enough. She was straining on tiptoe, her teeth pulling at his lower lip, demanding entrance and he lifted her to bring her face closer. Sookie's arms snaked over his shoulders and her hands framed his face. She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs as she once had, that gesture speaking of kindness and more. She dipped toward him, licking his fangs, first one and then the other, curling her tongue around them before more fully exploring his mouth. She was different, she was more, she was his home, and he buried his nose in the place just below her ear where her scent was strongest.

Her fingers were tugging, racing with the buttons on his shirt, and when she had them undone, she pulled her face from his and leaned down to lick and bite his nipples, just the way he liked. He was so hard it hurt, and then her fingers were there, too, undoing his pants. He lowered her to the floor. Her hand reached to grasp him and it was perfect. She released him and pulled his pants past his hips and then she followed them, running her hands down the long lines of his thighs, kissing and nibbling, untying shoes, until he was naked before her.

She stood and unfastened her own jeans, her eyes on his. She let them slip from her hips. She was wearing black underwear, and she unfastened her bra and let that fall, too, before pushing him backward to sit on the edge of the bed.

The old Sookie would have waited for his cue, but this Sookie, the one with the hungry eyes who looked at him as he'd always wished, fell to her knees and licked up his legs, her hands cradling and fondling, her mouth kissing and then, taking his head into her warm mouth, her eyes fastened on his.

She wasn't any better at oral sex than she had been before, but she approached it with a new energy, an enthusiasm, and Eric was soon arching into her. She was using tongue and lips. It was difficult not to grab her hair and bury himself in her throat. His mouth fell open, his fangs displayed, and Sookie moaned around him.

"Yes!" he cried, and, reaching forward, he dragged her off her knees and toward him. He laid back and pulled her toward him. She resisted, holding back to run her mouth and hands over his body, kissing and licking. She rubbed her face against his chest and she trailed her teeth over his upper arms. He was on fire and he reached down to part her lips.

Sookie crawled forward, straddling him and ran herself over his nodding cock, so he could feel how wet she was. When she took him in her hand this time, she ran her thumb over his head, using the moisture he was already leaking to make him wet, too. She positioned him at her entrance. "Yes," she sighed. "Please!"

She sank down on him then, her walls slowly giving way, enveloping him in her silky heat. She was so tight around him that Eric could feel her pulse beating against him. She allowed her head to drop back, her hands pushing against his chest as she nibbled her lower lip. When he was nearly seated, she rose up and then sank on him again, allowing him even deeper within her, and then the time for slow was over.

Eric sat up and grabbed Sookie's hips. He lifted her and when she struggled to maintain the rhythm he wanted, he flipped them over, captured her hands above her hand with one hand, and using his other hand to lift her hips, opening her more fully to him. She was perfect, this was perfect. Sookie's breasts were sliding against him and she opened her legs wider, bringing her heels to wrap around his hips.

She was panting, making noises, her mouth open, her eyes closed. She was going to come, but he wasn't ready for that. "Not yet!" he growled. He pulled out of her and flipped her to her knees. He kicked her legs apart and entered her again, deep and sure.

"Eric!" her voice was throaty. He could hear her need and it echoed his own. Only she could do this to him. He settled back into his rhythm, running his fingers around where he slickly pistoned within her, using the moisture to wet his thumb, and then inserting it in her rosebud, moving it in counterpoint to his cock, the way she loved. Sookie's head dropped to the bed as she moved against him, her hips driving him deeper. She swiveled and he almost came undone.

He leaned over her back, "You will come for me now," he growled in her ear. He leaned back again, so he could lightly slap her left cheek and then reaching around, rubbed her clit quickly while he pushed both cock and thumb within her. Her orgasm took her, hard and fast, and she cried out in her pleasure.

"Yes!" she cried, and "Eric!" as her walls milked him and he allowed her to take him with her. He couldn't remember coming so hard, not since the last time he had been with her. It was sublime.

He pulled her to him, folding her within his arms, and dropping so they were spooned together on the bed. Sookie was breathing hard, but her hands sought him, her fingers twining with his. It felt right, it felt best. She turned within his embrace, cuddling her head against his chest, her breath warm against him.

As they lay there, Eric knew this was a mistake.

Sookie reached for him again, her hand lazily stroking. "Sookie," he said, and her hand stilled. Her eyes lifted to his and she smiled. It was a trusting, happy smile and she scooted up, kissing him, and her hand began its movement again. She was breathing her sweet breath. Her scent was heavy in the air. He wondered if she was more Fae, if that could explain his reaction. He tried not to kiss her, but then he did.

"I missed this," she whispered. "I missed us."

He couldn't bring himself to say anything. He had already betrayed himself, he couldn't compound his wrong with more words. "I should leave," he said instead, and her hand stilled a second time.

Now her eyes changed. She looked afraid, and then so sad. "Please, Eric," she begged him. "Please, make love to me one more time. Just once! It will hold me for the rest of my life! Please!" Sookie opened her eyes. She bit her lip as she cradled his face in her hands. He started to turn from her, and he watched the pain as it passed over her face, the way her eyes squeezed shut and her face became tight. He could smell her tears and it was his undoing.

He loved her then. He allowed all the feelings he had buried so deep to come forward. He remembered all the curves and nuances of her body and he revisited every one. Sookie had a good memory as well, and he lost himself in the sweetness that had always been theirs.

As he moved within her, her chest against his, her legs wrapped around him as she moved in his lap, he watched with wonder as she lost herself in their moment. One minute she was watching him, her pupils dark, the next her head was thrown back, her ecstasy robbing her of breath. She was magnificent and in a move so natural he couldn't stop it, Eric leaned over her neck and sank his fangs into her, and with a cry, Sookie sank her teeth into him as well. It was stunning, the feeling of it. "Perfect!" he sighed. "You are so perfect!"

"I love you," she whispered, giving him the words he had once longed to hear from her, and Eric knew he loved her, too, and always would.

He held her until she fell asleep in his arms. He could tell she knew he'd be gone when she awoke. He could feel her, her happiness tinged with regret twining across his nerves. It was not a bond, but a mutual exchange was still a powerful thing. It would take some time before the effects wore off and Eric knew he would smell of her as she smelled of him.

He carefully withdrew from her, trying his best not to disturb her. A sadness passed over her face, echoed across their connection, and he sat on the side of the bed, reluctant to go. His hand moved back to tuck her hair away from her face, and her brow smoothed again. He glanced at her form under the blanket and stood up, pulling it from her. He ran his eyes across her, from head to foot, slowly cataloging the changes. It was on her belly that his eyes lingered. The faint crisscross of scarring told its tale. "You are a woman of mystery, my Sookie," he whispered. "Willing to break your honor for this thing, as I do," and he pulled the blanket back over her.

Eric walked around the room, collecting his clothes. He checked the time on his phone and started texting as he walked down the corridor and away from his heart.

The first message was to Mr. Cataliades, asking the demon to meet him in his room. The next was to his dayman, instructing him to arrange transport back to Oklahoma for first thing tomorrow morning. It was time to go home, and as Eric walked up the stairs that would take him to his floor, he thought about what would come next. He would shower and then feed from several donors tonight, muddling the bright scent of her. He would fly to Oklahoma and he would hide for the next week until she faded further.

As Eric reached his room, he resolved to never see Sookie again, not while she lived. He simply didn't have the strength of character, and he hated his weakness both for himself and for her. He had betrayed his Queen and himself. He owed Freyda better and he vowed to become the consort she deserved and to make this memory the one that would finally allow him to put Sookie Stackhouse behind him.


	11. Chapter 11 - Fortune's Folly

**Chapter 11 – Fortune's Folly**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

There was a banging noise and it broke into Sookie's dream. It thumped in the background, then stopped, then thumped again. Sookie opened her eyes and immediately closed them. Her eyeballs felt itchy and she wondered if she'd actually scratched one, it stung so badly.

Sitting up, she carefully rubbed them and this time, her eyes opened. The banging came again. There was someone at the door. Sookie turned on the light and wasn't surprised to see the empty side of the bed. The only evidence that Eric had been there was the state of the sheets and the stickiness between her legs. "I'm coming," Sookie called out, worried the person knocking at the door would wake her neighbors, and then, for some crazy reason, Sookie wondered if it was Eric returning. Her mind told her it was day and it couldn't be, but her heart was hoping anyway.

Grabbing the hotel courtesy robe and wrapping it around her, Sookie walked to the door and carefully looked out the peephole. It wasn't Eric. It was Mr. Cataliades, and Sookie turned the knob to let him in.

"You must get dressed," the attorney said without preamble. "I have made arrangements and you will be leaving for home within the hour."

"But, I'm supposed to…."

Mr. Cataliades turned from pulling her suitcase from the closet. "I will make your excuses," he hissed. "You must be gone before any vampire rises. No one can smell you!"

"Eric sent you," Sookie said with a sinking feeling.

"How could you feed from each other?" the demon scolded. "You know he's pledged! You, of all people, should realize what this could mean for both of you!"

"Where is Eric?" Sookie asked.

"He should be in his travel coffin and on his way to Oklahoma by now," the attorney told her.

"Did you see him?" Sookie asked. When the attorney nodded once, Sookie couldn't help herself, "Did he say anything about me?" She felt pathetic the minute the words left her mouth, and she felt worse after the attorney answered her.

"I doubt you will ever see him again." Sookie couldn't stop the sound she made. It was more than a sniff but less than a moan. It was the sound of her heart stopping, and Mr. Cataliades stilled to pat her arm. "I have told you I am sorry for your situation, and I am. Still, this was extraordinarily reckless of both of you," and, turning back to her suitcase, he said, "Go shower. Wash well. I'll be putting your things in your bag. We can't delay."

Sookie stumbled to the bathroom. She realized she had pressing matters to address, although she was sure she wasn't fooling anyone. There was no pain, no stinging, and Sookie smiled. With the way they'd used each other's bodies last night, she should expect to be bruised and sore, but that was the beauty of vampire blood. She didn't have to look in the mirror to know she would be glowing. Sookie closed her eyes and reached out, and she felt him. He seemed far away, which was how he always felt during his day death, but he was there. "How did I not want this?" she asked her reflection out loud.

Sookie turned on the shower. As she waited for the water to heat, she ran her hands over her body, remembering him. In a minute, in two, the water and soap would remove all outward trace, but for this moment, she could still smell him on her and it made her throat ache.

"We must hurry!" Mr. Cataliades called through the door, and, with a sigh, Sookie stepped under the spray.

When Sookie emerged, the attorney was loading the sheets into a laundry bag. There was a human woman in the room and she was re-making the bed. "Go get your towels," he instructed Sookie.

"What are you going to do with those?" she asked, jerking her chin toward the bag.

"Burn them," Mr. Cataliades said as if that was the most natural thing to say. He must have realized how confused she was because he explained, "Anything that has his scent must be removed. There can be no evidence that he was here."

"Yeah, I guess it would be pretty embarrassing," Sookie said, "Him backsliding, sleeping with his human pet while he's on vacation."

Mr. Cataliades glanced at the woman and then at the door, "You know where to put these. Not a word!" The woman nodded and when the door closed behind her, he turned back to Sookie. "Apparently, you don't understand, so I will explain it while you dress." He glanced at his watch, "You have fifteen minutes before your driver is here, and less than two hours before your plane leaves, so you need to move."

Sookie stopped thinking. She picked some underwear from the open drawer and the jeans and shirt she'd been wearing last night, then headed for the bathroom. She left the door ajar, and as she dressed, she said, "Okay, explain it to me."

"Eric Northman signed a contract, a marriage contract," the demon told her. "He swore his blood to Freyda. He also signed a codicil promising never to communicate with you in any way. He has broken both."

"I get it," Sookie shrugged. "He cheated…" and in that moment, Sookie realized she had become the 'other woman,' but just as quickly brushed the thought away. What had passed between them was right. She could feel it all the way to her toes.

"He did much more than that," the attorney interrupted her thoughts, "He has committed a blood offense."

"So, he has to what? Pay some kind of retribution?" Sookie was moving a little slower now, her mind racing.

Mr. Cataliades pushed open the door, "No, Sookie. There is only one punishment for this kind of blood offense. Mr. Northman would meet his final death."

Sookie's fingers stopped in their work of pulling back her hair, "Oh!" she said, but the sound that came from her was far less than she felt.

"And it would mean death for you, too," the attorney told her. "With your prior status, it would be assumed you understood the implications and you would share his end."

"But, Freyda's not here…" Sookie stumbled over the words.

"No, but every vampire here knows the law. Some would tell Freyda to curry favor. If Stan were to find out, he'd likely use that information to blackmail the Viking. He worries about Freyda's loyalty and this secret could be helpful."

"And Felipe would use it, too," Sookie added.

"Yes," Mr. Cataliades nodded. "He also wants Freyda's favor. He would likely kill you as a gift to her, promising to keep the secret if Freyda wishes. It is known that she is happy with the North Man, and until now, I thought the North Man was content with his situation." Mr. Cataliades pushed past Sookie to grab her toiletries from the bathroom vanity, "Your Viking told me one time that you were a lot of trouble, Miss Stackhouse. Today I know what he meant."

The ride to the airport was quiet. "What will you tell Felipe about why I left?" Sookie asked.

"I will tell him you became ill," Mr. Cataliades was looking out the window. "He comes from a time when humans becoming ill meant contagion and generally death. It will make it easy to convince him that you were doing the right thing."

"You don't think he'll wonder why someone who was sick wouldn't stick it out? Who wants to travel sick?" Sookie thought about driving from Louisiana to Boston, stopping every so often to throw up, her stomach in knots, and how she just wanted to stop and sleep until she felt better.

"Vampires generally take little notice of humans," the attorney assured her. "They see you as having limited uses, and, as a result, don't take the time to really understand your natures."

It was not a comforting thought, but in the next breath Sookie thought about Eric. While there had been times when there were long absences between when they saw each other, he never made her feel like she was unimportant. He got her. He made a point of understanding her nature well enough to know what was important to her. He didn't shower her with useless gifts she couldn't use. He gave her a coat when she needed one, and a driveway. "They aren't all like that," she said quietly.

"But, thank goodness, Felipe de Castro is," the attorney replied. The taxi pulled up to the airport and Mr. Cataliades handed her the ticket. "Check your bag with the counter there," and he indicated the airline baggage check on the sidewalk. "Then walk straight through to security. Your boarding pass is on your phone. Stay in the gate area. Take the train from the airport to your car and don't call. Don't travel for at least three weeks."

"Why three weeks?" Sookie asked. Mr. Cataliades glanced at the driver, then gestured that they should both get out the cab. Mr. Cataliades walked her to the bag check counter and handled her suitcase for her before pulling her toward the curb and away from others.

"If you examine your feelings, you will feel him. Do you?" and he waited for Sookie to nod. "In two weeks or so, you will stop feeling that. You didn't bond, so the effects are temporary. Once you lose that part of the connection, it's only a matter of another week or two before the rest of the effects dissipate."

"So others won't smell him," Sookie stated.

"The smell will be gone sooner," the attorney told her. "It's something else, a glow. Vampires won't know who, but they will be able to tell you were with a vampire, and if your name is known it won't take long to put two and two together. Just remain close to your home in Chester."

"When do you think Felipe will want me again?" Sookie asked.

"Probably not until the next Summit," the attorney was glancing around them. "Things between Felipe and Stan are going badly. There have been threats made, but no blood has been drawn, at least not yet. I don't think hostilities will break out before the Narayana Summit in the Winter. You probably won't be asked to travel again until December, and, if you are, we will come up with an excuse." He glanced around him and signaled for a taxi that was sitting down the curb from them. "I think things will stay quiet for awhile," he said, almost as much to himself as to her, but then he looked her directly in the eyes, "So as long as you remember what's at stake and don't draw attention to yourself, there should be plenty of time to recover from your folly."

Sookie was nervous on the long ride on the plane. She was seated against the window and she screened every passenger and flight attendant twice before she allowed her exhaustion to take over, falling asleep against the bulkhead. She dreamed of Eric. His hands moved over her and his lips outlined her ear and traced her mouth. She woke up moaning, earning an irritated look from the man sitting in the aisle. "Sorry," she mumbled, and reached for the magazine in the seat pocket in front of her. ' _Forgot those dreams_ ,' Sookie thought. Her face burning, she turned to the crossword puzzle and tried to lose herself in the mental exercise.

They transferred planes in Baltimore, and Sookie barely had time to buy a bottle of water and she was making the short flight to La Guardia. Baggage collected, she followed the signs, paid her fee, and settled back on the train. There would be more transfers, more waiting. The need for sleep was hammering at her, one yawn following another and her eyes were burning. When she settled on the last train, the one that would take her to the small station where her car was parked, she figured she could risk giving into sleep again. She leaned against the window of the railcar and closed her eyes, but sleep didn't come.

Instead, Sookie thought about being the 'other woman.' All her life, Sookie had watched and heard the dramas that played out when spouses cheated. Sometimes the reasons boiled down to the carelessness of people who were ill-suited to each other. Maybe they'd married too young or for the wrong reasons. In her hometown, a rushed wedding usually meant pregnancy, and most of those ended in divorce. What had always struck Sookie was that cheating seemed to carry some element of desperation. Cheating was usually running away from some unhappiness to try and find that thing that would allow a person to be happy. Mostly it was an illusion, though. Cheating led to drama and guilt, and Sookie had promised herself long ago she would never be a woman who stole another woman's man, but here she was.

' _I'm what I never wanted to be_ ,' she thought. She tried to feel bad about it, then realized she couldn't. Sookie wasn't sorry she'd made love with Eric Northman. She wasn't sorry about it one little bit. She could feel him, thrumming through her. His blood would allow her to dream of him, sharing moments in her head if not sharing her body. She had stolen a moment and she knew he didn't regret it. She couldn't think that he did. If he regretted or really thought it was a mistake, he never would have loved her as he did. He wouldn't have held her and told her she was perfect. Sookie knew what they shared was profound and she couldn't gloss it with the tarnish of calling it cheating. ' _It's what was meant to be!_ ' she declared to herself.

Sighing, Sookie looked out the window, watching the first hints of Fall in the trees they passed. If there was any sense of cheating, Sookie felt it was that fate had cheated them of the ending they deserved, and a single tear slipped down Sookie's cheek. She knew if circumstances presented again, she'd take him into her bed all over again. Even if she knew it meant she could be killed, she would risk it! Her thighs clenched as she remembered the way she felt as she reached completion and he held her close, having his own happy moment, pulsing deep within her, growling out her name over and over, like a prayer.

Then she thought of Rick.

What would have happened if they had been caught? What would happen to her son if she was killed? It was a cold thought and Sookie's rational mind kicked back in. She remembered Fran squeezing her hand so hard it hurt, challenging her to put her child before herself and, suddenly, the determination to find another way to Eric was gone. She wouldn't move toward Oklahoma, offering him access to her, an offer she had once rejected when he suggested it. She wouldn't seek intermediaries to carry messages.

"I had you again, and that was more than I could have expected," she told the reflection of the sad woman she saw in the window. "It will be enough. I will guard our son and keep him safe for both of us," and Sookie spent the remaining hours thinking about what awaited her and the things she would need to do. As the miles clicked past with the sound of the rails, Sookie Stackhouse, telepath and lover receded, and Susan Hale, mother, B&B owner, and member of the Parent Teachers Association returned.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Sookie hadn't made it through the door of the house before Rick was asking what was up with her perfume. His nose literally twitched. Sookie couldn't smell Eric within her, but realized her son could. He didn't understand what it was, but he processed it as an unpleasant smell. He kept remarking on it the next day until Sookie lost her patience, "Look, I don't smell whatever it is that you do, but you are hurting my feelings! I've showered. I've changed my clothes. Maybe it's where I was staying, but just give it a few days, I'm sure it will wear off!" Rick continued to give her sideways looks, but he didn't bring it up again.

The B&B was full as it always was these days. Sookie's reputation for large breakfasts and charming rooms had her listed on Trip Advisor. She started offering dinners for an additional fee. She cooked the recipes her Gran taught her. She introduced visitors to collard greens and black-eyed peas. She demonstrated the beauty of true buttermilk biscuits. There was no menu, and she restricted dinner nights to Thursdays and Saturdays. Guests got first priority in the small dining room, but soon word traveled and the three extra tables were reserved months in advance by others. If there were guests who chose not to eat, calls would be made to the wait list, and Sookie's dinners became a highlight in Chester.

"You could join the cook crew for our Fourth of July Barbecue," Warren, the town mayor, suggested one night. "Your fried chicken is the best I've ever had!"

Being part of the town cook crew for either the Fourth or Memorial Day parades was an honor. Only those who truly belonged to Chester were considered, and Sookie felt it, but she also knew that as a relative new-comer in a New England town, those on the crews wouldn't exactly welcome her. "I sure appreciate it," Sookie smiled, "but with the summer folks who stay here and Rick, I have both hands full. Tell you what, though, I can offer to bring some and add it if that will help." By that, Sookie meant that she'd make chicken for the Mayor, and Warren knew it.

And so life continued. Rick settled into school and Sookie came to know George Hermosa who was a frequent visitor. Rick still spent time with his childhood friends, but as often happened, the 'townies' broke apart, forming friendships with those who came just for the schools. Often these friendships were lifelong, and the children of Chester found opportunities in the wide world that might not have been open otherwise. During the summer, childhood friendships reasserted for those who weren't traveling with their more fortunate friends. It was an odd culture, but one that was accepted here.

Sookie didn't question Rick's choice of George. She could tell her son honestly liked the young man, and Sookie came to like him as well. He was smart and had an acid sense of humor that complimented her son's. George was not quite as fearless as Rick, but he rarely backed down. Together, they spent weekends climbing either trees or rock walls. Sookie would find them, helmets and harnesses on, happily coiling rope as they planned where to climb next. It felt natural, this turning from her as Rick became more a part of his world and less her little boy.

Still, there were moments that Rick would get an odd expression, or he would say something that let Sookie know there was something changing about him that wasn't quite natural, and Sookie resolved to get in touch with Doctor Ludwig and have him examined during the holidays.

As the weeks passed, Sookie could feel Eric slipping further from her. She spent every evening before she went to bed examining and caressing what she felt of him through the tendril that was their disappearing bond. When Lora asked if she was feeling okay, Sookie realized the gradual receding of Eric had put her in a state of near-mourning, and Sookie resolved to project a happier face. In reality, Sookie was struggling with it, the loss of her connection. It was as if she had been thrown back to the first time she lost him, and the pain of living through it again almost overwhelmed her.

Fay Miller told her to pull her head out of her ass and get on with things. "Lora tells me you're moping around when you think no one's looking," her friend snapped at her. "You're not fooling anyone, and you are worrying the people who love you. You fucked him. It was glorious. Get a vibrator and get over it!" Sookie could hear how thin her friend's voice sounded.

"How are you doing?" Sookie asked. "It's been forever since I've been to see you in Boston. I think I should come out for a visit."

"Well, not before the holidays," Fran replied. "I have too much going on and I don't need any of you underfoot before then." There was something in the way Fran said it that let Sookie know the witch was thinking more of Sookie than she was of herself. Still, Sookie worried. The last time she'd seen Fran, the woman looked frail.

Fran was now in her eighties. She finally gave into the need to use a cane and she had broken into her bank account to install an elevator in the central hallway of the house, so she could more easily move up and down the floors. Any mention of her health was dismissed with a snort and an insult, but aging was a reality that none of them could wish away, and Sookie dreaded the day they would lose the witch.

Fall moved forward and before she knew it, Sookie was placing pumpkins on the front porch and putting the final touches on the graveyard decorations in the front yard. Rick had stopped trick or treating last year, so this year he'd be dressing up as a prop for the graveyard. He chose a grim reaper and he and George planned to stand among the gravestones that dotted the lawn to scare the kids who came up the sidewalk for candy.

The weekend before Hallowe'en was traditionally Parent's Weekend for the schools and Sookie had been racking her brain to come up with excuses. Rick agreed to help his Mother dodge the Hermosas, and they had worked out signals and plans. Then word came that Rubio, Mr. Hermosa, would be unable to come after all. Sookie offered to host a dinner for George, his two siblings, and Lily Hermosa, their Mother. Since Sookie had never met Lily, she figured as long as she could avoid getting caught in any photos, all would turn out well.

When the weekend arrived, Rick gave up his room on the third floor, so that Mrs. Hermosa could be closer to the schools. Lily Hermosa was dark-haired and tiny. She was originally from Mississippi and, in no time, Sookie found herself fighting the natural urge to fall back into her deep South accent. When she lapsed, she covered it by inventing an aunt she had visited during summer vacations in Louisiana. She used her own Aunt Linda as the model. Soon Sookie and Lily were exchanging recipes for biscuits and red beans and rice. Sookie could see the Hermosas felt as if Rick was one of them. Lily had heard stories about Rick from George, but it was more than that. While the two younger children, Maddie and Frank, had their own friends, it was Rick whom they adored. Over dinner, Sookie heard stories about how her son had squired Maddie, who was only a year younger, to a couple school events, making all her girlfriends jealous. Frank, who was only in third grade, worshipped Rick and his older brother, and he pestered them about taking him on their adventures. "He taught me to fish!" Frank told Sookie, his eyes shining as he looked at her son.

Lily insisted on helping with the dishes after dinner. Lora was there and the three women were soon swinging around the kitchen, straightening and cleaning in the way women do. As they finished wiping down counters, Lily said, "I guess you figure I'm some kind of mother, sending my babies so far from home."

"No such thing!" Sookie answered.

"In case you haven't noticed, there are three schools here, all with children living far from home. They get a first class education and they are surrounded by people who care for them," Lora added.

Lily nodded, but then she said, "I guess you know I'm married to a vampire." She paused as if she was waiting for them to say something, but neither did. "I wanted… well, we wanted the children to have a normal childhood," Lily told them. "We figured if they were in private schools where no one knew who we were, they could grow up like everyone else."

"Supernatural lives can be difficult," Sookie said. She knew she shouldn't have said anything, but she couldn't miss the grateful look on Lily's face.

"Yes, they can be. They are hard on adults, but confusing, maybe even terrifying for children," and Lily looked away.

Sookie wanted to say more, but Lora threw her a warning look. "You do for them what you can," Lora told Lily, "but never underestimate them. George tells Rick about living with vampires all the time. George seems to take it all in stride. I'd say you've done a pretty good job helping him to accept things."

"Thank you!" Lily said gratefully, and then there was a noise from the children in the dining room. They were cheering and the three women walked out of the kitchen.

"Rubio!" Lily exclaimed, and she practically ran across the floor to wrap her arms around the vampire's neck. His arms were already full. He had Frank balanced against his hip and his other arm around Maddie. George was beaming, but Sookie could see his expression as he looked at Rick, and it was more than interested. His head lifted, and she found herself locking eyes.

"You must be Rubio," Sookie stuttered. "I'm Susan Hale." She wasn't sure what Rubio would say, but he seemed to use his time hugging his wife to process things.

Lily blushed as she released her husband, "Oh, I am sorry! I'm being rude!" She took Frank from her husband and detached his daughter as she said, "This is Rick's Mom, Susan Hale, and Lora. She works here with Susan."

"Of course," Rubio replied smoothly. He stepped forward, but Sookie automatically bowed, and Rubio returned the gesture.

"You really do seem familiar with Supernaturals," Lily complimented, but Sookie could hear there were questions forming in the woman's head.

"I know it looks a million miles away from anything, but we do have special folks through here from time to time," Sookie finessed. Sookie looked at Rick. There was something about how he was watching Rubio. There was something going on with her son, so she turned to Lily, and said, "Well, Rick and I have a couple things to get done. Lora? Would you mind setting up breakfast for tomorrow? Lily, why don't we give you and your family some privacy?" Sookie grabbed Rick's arm and steered him toward the kitchen and their family apartments.

"What is it?" she asked once they were behind closed doors.

"I can't explain it," Rick stammered. "It's like there's a glow around him. I could feel him before he even walked in the door. It was like a pull or something. I couldn't have ignored him if I'd wanted to."

"Have you ever felt anything like this before?" Sookie asked. She stroked his arm as he shook his head.

There was a knock on the door and Rick said, "It's Mr. Hermosa."

"I guess I'd better get this over with," Sookie sighed.

"Should I go?" Rick asked.

"Nope," Sookie told him. "You're going to need to hear this, too."

When Sookie opened the door, she gestured toward the small table, "Come on in, Rubio, you might as well take a seat."

"I wondered," he told her. "When I met Rick the first time, I thought his Mother must be a Supe. It never occurred to me it would be you. Sookie Stackhouse!"

Sookie sat down on a chair. Rick sat, too. Rubio looked at him again, "What is he, exactly?" he asked.

"A hybrid," Sookie answered, "and my son."

"Did you tell him?" Rubio asked.

"He knows what he is," Sookie replied before Rick could say anything.

"Not Rick," Rubio smirked, "The Viking. In Denver. Did you tell him about…" and Rubio stopped. His head cocked again and he appeared unable to not turn toward her son. "There is something about you," he said, staring at Rick. "Something that makes me uneasy."

"He could sense you before you arrived," Sookie told Rubio. "We're going to see Amy Ludwig during winter break. Rick's changing, and I'm hoping she can explain what's happening to him." Taking Rick's hand, Sookie said, more for her son than her guest, "What he can expect."

"Doctor Ludwig is wise," Rubio agreed, then shaking his head, turned back to Sookie. "I understand your secrecy now. Getting you to talk about where you had been was like pulling teeth in Denver. This explains it."

"Are you going to tell anyone about us? About our being here?" Sookie asked.

"Anyone, like Felipe?" Rubio asked, "No. For all I'm his vassal, I see no need to tell him something the King seems happy leaving a mystery."

"How about anyone else?" Sookie challenged, and it occurred to her that Rubio was someone's spy. Eric told her that all vampires had spies and while Sookie knew Rubio worked for Felipe, she was now equally sure he was really someone else's man.

Rubio stared at Rick again. It took a long moment before he said, "No, I won't tell anyone about this, but you!" and he gave Sookie a hard look. "You should! He deserves to know!"

"And he will," Sookie nodded. She glanced at her son, "We agreed that Rick will find Eric when he's fourteen. That's in two years, and hopefully by then, this war that's brewing will be over."

Rubio nodded. "When the time comes," he told Rick, "have your Mother contact me. I can present you to the North Man. He knows me and it will make the news, well… easier to hear."

"Thank you," Sookie swallowed, "I know Eric trusts you."

"Well, you'll be coming, too, right?" Rick asked his Mother.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Sookie shrugged, and when Rick looked like he'd protest, Sookie added, "and I think we've had enough excitement for one day. Why don't you head out and see your friends before they leave for the night?" Rick looked as if he'd protest, but then he nodded. He stood up and stalked out the door, a miniature version of his Father.

"George is very fond of him," Rubio said, his eyes watching the door Rick had used.

"Rick and I feel the same way about George," Sookie replied. "Look, I don't have any light-tight rooms here, but I could cobble something together in the basement…"

"Ever the hostess! It's not a problem," Rubio chuckled. "I have already arranged a room in the next town that will suit my needs. Lily is upstairs packing, so I will be stealing away one of your guests." They rose to rejoin their families when Rubio said, "Don't worry, Sookie. Your secret is safe," and somehow, Sookie knew that it was.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

When Eric emerged from his coffin following Denver, it was in the lodge he maintained in the farthest end of the Oklahoma Panhandle. This was the first residence he'd purchased after coming to the state and its distance from the Queen's capital had been purposeful. In those early days, he had resented his situation, and blamed Freyda.

He sent Freyda word that he was dealing with some unfortunate business reversals. He assured her that all was well and that he would be in the capital in two weeks. "I have something in particular I wish to discuss with you," he told her over the phone. When she asked for more details, he teased her about surprises.

Each night he called her, talking sometimes for hours. He forced himself to think about all the things he liked about the Queen before he dialed the phone, her qualities, her intelligence, her humor.

When he wasn't speaking with his Queen, Eric spent time standing on the porch of his house, staring out into the night, remembering the lessons Appius Livius Ocella had, sometimes cruelly, sought to teach him. His Maker spent over a hundred years beating and punishing emotions from his progeny. He told Eric that forming connections with others was weakness. He taught Eric that only strategy and thought without the distraction of feelings mattered.

Eric had learned. The Viking had learned to disassociate himself from his surroundings. He had learned to lock away his pain and humiliation to focus on other things. He learned how to think under pressure. He learned how to puzzle his way through when things seemed most bleak. He learned to embrace the cold, clear truth of reality and to turn away from disappointment, and he sought that same clarity now.

It was hard.

The first night he locked himself in the smallest room in the house and waited as the scent of Sookie Stackhouse that emanated from him filled the space. After an hour, he flung himself from the room, disgusted with his own weakness.

He resisted the temptation the second night, but the third, he was in the room again, filtering the palette of scents, distilling his senses to just her. He closed his eyes. He remembered each second, what she said, what she didn't say. He thought of her body.

Eric had heard Sookie remained with Sam Merlotte until she didn't. He saw the unmistakable evidence that told him she had borne at least one child. He wondered if she kept it, but, knowing her, he was sure she did. He wondered if, even now, she was sitting beside some human mate, telling him and her children about her adventures in Denver, adventures that would not include the story of how she fucked Eric Northman.

Each day he fed from bagged blood and, more carefully, from those who lived around his lodge. He used glamour, working hard to remain under the human's radar, and he considered his situation.

Eric Northman prided himself on being pragmatic. He prided himself on being able to change with his environment. Of all the vampires in the United States, he was oldest. You didn't become that unless you were able to manipulate events and people to your benefit. Even in this time of mainstreaming, there were dangers, and vampires became finally dead with regularity. Sometimes humans would trap them, draining them for their blood. Sometimes it was fights with rivals or other supernaturals. Eric never doubted that he owed his long existence to the teachings of Appius, and, slowly, inexorably, he pushed Sookie Stackhouse to the back of his mind and used his logic to dictate what he needed to do to save himself.

Eric thought about his previous attractions. Karin he had turned because, in her misery, she reminded him of himself in those first years with Appius. In turning her, and seeing her happiness, he had saved some younger version of himself as no one had done for him. With Pam, he had been lonely. He admired her independent spirit and she was so grateful to be a vampire, he never doubted the wisdom of his choice.

But Sookie? It wasn't seemly to label his attraction to her as love, but he did love her; he could feel the ache of it in every part of him and it only added to his unhappiness.

For the first time, the only time, he had asked instead of simply taking her as he had taken his other daughters, and she rejected him. She told him many times she had no desire to continue with him. She would fade and turn to dust, a moment in the long river of his existence, leaving nothing behind to comfort him.

"How is that love?" Eric asked aloud. It was something he shared with Sookie, the love of reading. Over and over the message the greatest writers provided was the same: If both partners did not put the other first above themselves, it was not love. If only one partner was willing to do all for the other, it was obsession, and obsession never ended well.

For the first time in a long time, Eric thought ahead to when Sookie would be gone. He had no need to swallow or breath, but his chest constricted anyway. He could see how easily he could fall into despair, allowing his existence to slip from him. He had seen it before, vampires who became obsessed with their mates. When their mate failed or was killed, they stopped feeding. It had never made sense to him, until now.

"Is this what you've come to? Someone willing to throw away your existence on an obsession?" he asked the night, and he resolved again to build the wall within himself that would block off the inexplicable disaster that was Sookie Stackhouse and find some way to move forward.


	12. Chapter 12 - Winds Blow

**Chapter 12 – Winds Blow**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

When Eric traveled to his Queen's court, he was prepared. He timed his arrival to coincide with the end of a one of her formal Assizes. It assured there would be vampires from all over the kingdom assembled in the large ballroom Freyda used to hear petitions and settle disputes. Eric made a point of asking that he not be announced. Instead, he registered his name among the petitioners and placed himself as one of them in the line who would approach Freyda that night.

When his turn came, Eric stepped forward, walking slowly, allowing the whispering around him to grow. He kept his eyes downcast, knowing it would intrigue his much younger wife. When he reached her chair, Eric fell to his knees in an overly dramatic gesture. No one knelt like this to rulers anymore, so there was a chance his act could be interpreted as mockery, and Eric spoke quickly to head off any speculation. "I am here to petition for my wife's forgiveness," he said in his clear, deep voice.

He looked up at her now, and smirked, hoping she would see his humor and react favorably. She did, her lips tilting slightly, "And what have you done, Husband, that would require my forgiveness?"

The hissing around them was growing. In all the years they were together, the Court had seen them comfortable with each other, but not playful. It was time for that to end, so Eric grinned his pirate smile, the one that spoke of mischief and adventure.

"So many things, my Queen," he purred, and he willed his eyes to be dark and interested. Freya smirked and then Eric knew the time for flirting was over.

Dropping his voice, and laying his hand on his heart, he said, "But there is only one that is important. I wish to be forgiven the sin of living too far from you. I am here to beg the favor of being given apartments here. I wish to be allowed to live under the same roof with you, my Queen." Eric rose, holding her eyes with his own, "Freyda, I wish to make my home with you," and then he leaned closer, "I wish you to be my home."

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open a bit. Eric knew Freyda enjoyed his company. He suspected she wished more, but she had carefully kept him at some distance. Eric respected that about her. As a younger vampire, controlling herself would be difficult. He had only his own recent history to show how hard control could be. What he was proposing would signal a fundamental shift in their relationship. As Queen, it was her place to invite him, as it was her place to invite him to exchange blood. It was one of the formalities. As Queen, Freyda could drink from him. As Consort, he needed her permission to take from her, but both knew that what Eric was proposing would make them more equals.

Freyda was watching him carefully. The smile dropped from her lips and, for a moment, he saw vulnerability flash behind her eyes. She wanted to believe what he was offering was true, and it gave him confidence. "Why the change?" she asked.

Eric thought of all the reasons he had reviewed in his head before coming here; why a life with Freyda was best. He thought of her intelligence and her ability to be kind. He thought of her business savvy and her unerring way with politics. If she cared for him and believed he cared for her, she would be devoted. She would make his existence pleasant. They understood and complimented each other. In time, she would bond with him and name him her King. "I missed you," he told her.

Eric waited. It was Freyda's turn. She would either believe him or not. For one long moment he thought he'd read her wrong, but then a brilliant smile broke across her face. She held out her hand and, turning to her Master of Arms, said, "Please bring a chair for my husband."

When the chair was brought and set just behind her right shoulder, as was customary, she said, "No, my husband sits at my side." Freyda smiled up at him and said, "Welcome home, Eric." Her eyes were shining. Eric reached forward and took her hand in his. He pulled her to him and she rose gracefully. Eric didn't hesitate. He wrapped her in his arms and he kissed her in front of her Court. There was scattered applause and it was done.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

"I just think a motorcycle is just too much!" Sookie hiss-whispered.

"If you were still living in that shitty Louisiana backwater town where you grew up, he'd probably have two already," Fran wheezed. "Besides, how will he be able to compete in motocross if he doesn't have a bike?"

"I still don't know if I'm giving him permission to do motocross." If Sookie hadn't been standing on a ladder she would have stamped her foot. It was Christmas, and she and Rick had traveled to Boston to spend the holidays with Fran. The B&B was officially closed for the holidays, but Lora stayed behind, inviting her sister and her family to stay and visit Chester.

Sookie had returned from the Narayana Summit only the week before. The sessions were tense and she barely had time to speak with Rubio or Mr. Cataliades. She had the impression the demon was involved in some secret mission. When she did see him, he looked stressed and barely spoke. He was thin and told her he'd recently become vegetarian, which Sookie took as a bad sign.

For her part, the nights were crowded with meetings, followed by a complicated series of dances and feints to avoid finding herself alone with Felipe de Castro. He was being charming, but the 'accidental' touching and the lingering looks were back.

Sookie had managed to keep out of any compromising situations, but Felipe apologized as she was leaving, promising that next time, he would spare more time for her. He told her he found her captivating and complimented her in a way that made her think he might be half-serious. "I'm too old for you!" she told him, willing to throw her pride to the winds. "Next time you see me, I'll be older still. You should find yourself someone younger, who can run faster!" she'd joked.

"You are like wine," he'd breathed against her hand, delicately sniffing. "You improve with age. There is no one comparable to you." From somewhere, he'd produced an orchid. It had several perfect blossoms on a single stem. The flowers were all pale green, and he said, "Like these, you are ever green to me."

It shook Sookie, how the Nevada King had read her so well. She crumpled the flowers as soon as she stepped on the plane and threw them into the trash bag the flight attendant brought past her seat. Sookie dreaded the next time she'd see the King, knowing he would pressure her further, and she slept too much the next week, seeking escape from her troubles.

It was on the drive to Boston that she and Rick finally spoke. "So, are you okay now?" he asked.

"Better," she told him. "I'm sorry. I haven't been myself."

"Was my Father there? Was he at the Summit?" Sookie glanced at her son. He looked hopeful and she realized that some part of her had been hopeful, too.

"No, he and his Queen didn't come," she smiled tightly. There had been almost no talk of Eric at the Summit. It wasn't that that was unusual, but Sookie got the impression that those around her were purposely avoiding the subject. When she'd confronted Rubio, he'd laughed, telling her she was paranoid, but the idea that they were hiding something hadn't gone away.

"Oh," Rick said, and then looked out the window. After sitting quiet for a bit, Rick said, "Aunt Fran is pretty old."

"Yes, she is," Sookie answered, and she had the sinking feeling she knew what was coming next.

"Do you think this is the last time we'll see her?" Rick asked, and the question made tears spring to Sookie's eyes.

"I don't know, Sweetheart," she answered, then laughed shortly as she brushed away the tear that fell anyway. "No one really knows those things."

"Sure," he said in his moody way. "I guess."

"It's nature's way," Sookie said, somewhat helplessly. "So, what do you want to see first?" she asked, purposely moving their conversation to safer ground. They talked about the order in which they'd see the lights in Boston Garden, the displays in the shops they liked best, and when they'd have dinner with Sean Bailey at his restaurant. It was understood Sookie and Rick would attend the annual Wiccan bonfire welcoming the turning of the year without Fran. The witch couldn't stand out in the cold too long since it triggered her asthma. Rick promised his godmother he'd video everything with his phone so she could see it on the flat screen later.

In almost no time, they were pulling into the double garage behind the brownstone and walking through the warm kitchen. For Sookie, it felt as though, for the first time in weeks, she could let her breath out.

The tree was in the library waiting for them, and now they were seated around it, boxes of ornaments scattered around.

"He's going to ride motorcycles whether you say it's okay or not," Fran said in her reasonable voice, the one that really pissed Sookie off. "He'll tell you he's with friends, or he'll just disappear all day and lie about where he's been when you see him next."

"He won't if he knows what's good for him!" Sookie fumed.

"Like he didn't lie to you about tree climbing or hang gliding?" Fran asked. "He's a dare devil, and denying that part of him just makes him push harder! At least if I give him his first bike, you'll know it's new and as safe as it can be. Who knows what he's been riding behind your back? Probably some cobbled together smoke-choker he pieced together from parts. I've never seen a more able boy when it comes to mechanical things!"

Sookie was about to say something else when she heard the sound of Rick's foot on the stairs. "You can stop talking about me," he announced, walking in with the extra boxes of decorations the women had sent him upstairs to find. He looked from his Godmother to his Mother on the ladder. "Must have been good, though. You look like you've been sucking lemons, Mom!" and he laughed in that full-throated way that sounded just like Eric.

"You should take a bath," Sookie snapped. "Doctor Ludwig is coming tonight to examine you. You don't want to be dirty."

"What am I?" Rick snapped back, "Two? I promise, I showered this morning, I washed behind my ears and I used soap on all the good parts. If you need me to leave so you two can keep fighting, just say so! I'll go downstairs and get myself something to eat."

"Your Mom is just pissed off that I'm giving you a motocross bike for Christmas," Fran sniffed.

"Really, Aunt Fran? You are?" and Rick bounded over, dropping the boxes on a chair, and wrapping his long arms around the frail woman.

"I still haven't decided," Sookie stammered.

"But you will say yes," her fresh son winked, and he hugged his Aunt Fran again.

Rick picked the boxes back up, set them on the table, and then positioned himself beneath his Mother's ladder. He pulled the box of ornaments from her hand and took over the job of pulling them from their tissue paper, one by one, and making sure they had hooks. He handed them up, allowing Sookie to concentrate on placing them.

"Are you nervous about tonight?" Fran asked Rick.

"What? About meeting the famous Amy Ludwig?" Rick's grin split his face, "Heck, no!" Sookie stared at her son, and she could see he was lying. It was in the slightly tight way he held his shoulders and the way his eyes creased just at the corners. Sookie sighed, knowing if she confronted him, he'd explain why he wasn't lying, just finessing the truth, and in that way he was like his Father, too.

"Did you tell her why she needed to come here?" Sookie asked Fran.

"Hell, no!" Fran laughed, and then started to cough. Rick set down the ornaments to pick up a glass of water and hand it to his Aunt. When Fran recovered, she gasped out, "Where would be the fun in that? I told Amy there was an unusual specimen she might want to catalogue and if she wanted to see it, she was going to have to transport herself up here because I couldn't be bothered to bring it to her."

"I'm sure that went over well," Sookie sighed.

"She knows more swear words than I do," Fran chuckled.

They finished with the tree and all admired it as the room darkened. Sookie headed downstairs to take over dinner from Trudie, Fran's new housekeeper, so she could head home. "Come on, Auntie," Rick helped Fran stand. He allowed her to lean heavily on his arm and they walked slowly and carefully to the elevator. "You feeling okay?" he asked as the car lowered to the ground level.

"Right as rain," Fran patted his arm, "Don't you worry about me."

While Rick understood the natural course of things, his Aunt Fran had always been there, and the thought that she would be gone someday seemed impossible. As if sensing his turn of thoughts, Fran laughed her dry laugh, "Don't be putting me in the grave too soon," she assured him. "I still have a few things I need to straighten out with your Mother. She is altogether too hard on you!"

"You know it, Aunt Fran!" Rick agreed. "I'm counting on you!" Teasing Sookie was something they both enjoyed, and his Aunt's mischievous grin helped lift his mood.

The doors opened, and Rick helped Fran as she shuffled forward. When they got to the door of the kitchen, Fran stopped suddenly, and Rick glanced down to make she was okay. "How come you get to look like that?" His Aunt was looking into the kitchen, and Rick turned to look forward, too. There, standing at the table beside his Mother was a short, brown-haired woman. She seemed as wide as she was tall, and she squinted at him. Her eyes looked huge behind the thick lenses of her glasses and Rick wondered if she was legally blind.

"Well, will you look at that!" the stranger exclaimed. "I haven't seen one of those in centuries!" Fran jiggled his arm to get his attention, and Rick started moving again, helping his Aunt into the kitchen and then lowering her into her chair. The whole time the stranger was staring at him as if he was some weird thing she wasn't sure she wanted to get too close to.

When Fran was settled, Rick stepped around the stranger toward his Mother, but the woman reached out and grabbed his hand in a surprisingly strong grip. Before he could react, she had licked the palm of his hand, and then gaped up at him, "Why aren't you drinking blood?" she demanded.

"Eww," Rick huffed, pulling his hand from her. "What are you? Some kind of freak?"

"This is Doctor Ludwig," his Mother said in her ' _be polite'_ voice. "And no, he's not drinking blood," she replied to the woman. "Why are you asking?"

"Has anyone told you he's anemic?" Doctor Ludwig turned her back on Rick as if he wasn't there. "That he was low on iron? Something like that?"

"Yes," Sookie nodded. "Rick's been on iron supplements since he was an infant."

"Rick?" the doctor chuckled, "That's good!"

"My name is Corbett Eric Hale," Rick announced. "I've been called Rick since I was little."

"Huh," and the Doctor turned to face him, "so you can speak for yourself. Go figure," and she smirked, "You even sound like him. Good trick!"

"So, you've seen people like Rick before?" Sookie asked in her ' _let's get down to business_ ,' voice.

"Damphir," the doctor nodded. "Yes, I've seen them before, but not in a long time." She stalked around Rick, looking him up and down. "He's a good specimen. Sometimes the mix doesn't work so well, but seems you and the Viking must be well-suited."

"I didn't think it was possible," Fran said.

"Only happens when vampires are really old, and there's not many of those left," Amy nodded. "Last time I saw these," and she jerked her chin at Rick, "was in Eastern Europe. There were vampires there living as nobility and since no one was trying to kill them, they got old enough to reproduce."

"Are they still there?" Sookie asked.

"No," the Doctor said, her attention focused on Rick as she walked around him

"What happened to them?" Sookie asked.

"Who knows?" Doctor Ludwig shrugged. "Politics. Famine. At any rate, the humans rose and killed them all. Being a vampire isn't an easy life. Every few generations, humans with something to prove find torches and stakes and go vampire hunting."

"Mainstreaming will change that," Sookie said.

"We'll see," Doctor Ludwig shrugged. "In the meantime, let's see how far you've developed, young man," and she advanced on Rick. "Can you do me a favor and take off your shirt?"

Rick glanced at his mother before he pulled his t-shirt over his head. He was well-muscled, although still immature. Doctor Ludwig nodded, apparently satisfied. "Developing well. Pale, but we've covered that. You need to start feeding, young Rick."

"I don't understand," Sookie stammered. "Rick eats regular food, like me. I don't even know how he'd…" and Sookie blushed, not sure how to continue.

"How he'd do what?" Amy squinted.

"Well… never mind. If you think it's necessary, I'm sure we can figure something out," and Sookie shrugged at her paling son.

Amy Ludwig squinted first at Sookie and then at Rick. "Come over here, Vampire Boy, and sit down," the Doctor barked at Rick. The young man shuffled over to sit in the chair the Doctor indicated. Sookie stepped forward as well, poised to intervene.

"I'm not going to hurt him!" Amy laughed at Sookie, then turning toward Rick, said, "Open up! I want to look in your mouth, and try not to bite me, okay?"

"I'm not sure about this," Rick said, and suddenly he wasn't a cock-sure preteen. He was a nervous boy being told more information than he was ready to absorb.

Sookie reached out and took his hand, "I trust her, Rick and she can tell you things I can't. Just open your mouth. I won't let her hurt you."

"As if I would!" Amy snorted. When Rick opened his mouth, she said, "Lean your head back! Look at the ceiling!" When he did, Amy took her pointer finger and massaged the roof of his mouth.

"What the Hell!" Rick cried out and he jerked his head forward. Doctor Ludwig jumped back, snatching her hand away.

Sookie jumped, too, "What happened?" she shouted. There was blood dripping down her son's chin and he was holding his mouth. When she pulled his hand away to look, there were two fangs extended over his lip.

"They were waiting for the proper stimulation to break through," the Doctor explained, wiping her hands. "He'll stop bleeding in a minute. It's just the protective barrier breaking."

Amy grabbed a towel and tossed it to Sookie, who helped her son clean up. The doctor pulled a chair over, so she could sit next to Rick. When he was mostly cleaned up and looking a little less stressed, she said, "My guess is you've been noticing some other changes lately."

Rick glanced at his Mother before nodding.

"Puberty usually triggers these things," the Doctor explained. "Your fangs were ready to drop. You'll need to start taking in blood now. Bagged will do, but fresh would be better while you're growing." When Rick made a pained expression, the Doctor shook her head, "If you don't take blood, you'll get sick."

"Aren't there pills or something? What about bottled?" Sookie asked. She could see Rick was starting to look nauseated.

"Sorry!" Doctor Ludwig was full-out laughing. "No substitutes!" Turning to Rick, she clapped him on the knee, making him jump, "You'll have to suck it up, Buttercup!" and then she laughed harder at her own pun.

There was a flash and the doctor was gone, but, before Rick could ask, she was back and walking to the microwave. "Is that…" and Rick couldn't finish. His eyes were large.

Sookie sat down beside him, "Look at me," she said, and persisted until he turned away from the sight of the Doctor dancing a little jig. Sookie took a deep breath, "You are the bravest kid I know. Nothing about the unknown scares you. You'll try anything. Why should this be any different?" 

"Mom!" Rick protested. "It's blood!" He was lisping around his fangs. He was stressed out and Sookie's heart hurt for him, but she couldn't discount Amy Ludwig's words.

"It's what you need," she said in her best, no-nonsense way. Standing up, she walked over to the counter just as Amy pulled out the mug. "He hasn't been able to retract his fangs, and I doubt under the circumstances, he will. He won't be able to use a glass, so let's see if we can find another way to get this into him."

Sookie opened cabinets and pulled drawers. Finally, she lifted out a turkey baster. She filled it up and then wrapped a towel around it. Walking toward Rick, she said, "Okay, just open up and then close your lips around the tip. Close your eyes."

"Mom…" he protested, but it was Fran who stopped him.

"Rick," she wheezed. "There are plenty of things I've done in this life that didn't look like a good idea, but were. You're holding onto some idea that is not you. I've always told you you were special, Son. Well, sometimes being special comes with some things that don't sit well at first. This is one of those times. Give it a try. If it really doesn't work for you, we'll figure something else out."

Rick was a ball of tension, but he nodded and closed his eyes. When prompted, he opened his mouth a little and Sookie squeezed the warmed liquid into his mouth. He grimaced, and then he groaned. He started to suck at it until it was gone. His eyes opened, "That tastes really good!" he exclaimed. Sookie could see the wonder battling with the revulsion.

"What can I say, Kid?" she told him. "You're a vampire now!" and she laughed in an effort to make it all right for him.

Once he'd figured out he craved blood, his fangs retracted. "It may take you a little while to figure them out," Sookie told Rick. "Stress or emotions always seem to trigger them," and she pointed toward his mouth.

"Or the need to feed," the Doctor added. "If you feel your fangs itching, it's generally a sign."

Rick didn't mention his feeding triggering other needs. Eric told Sookie once that fucking and feeding naturally went together. She knew the day was fast approaching when she'd need to give her son the sex talk, but she was glad that, in this case, Eric might have been 'feeding' her a story. Telling her son he'd have to drink blood seemed like enough life-changing information for one night.

"Does this mean I have to give up French fries?" Rick asked as things settled back down.

"Nope, you get it all, Little Fanger. Human food. Vampire food. Sunlight. Pretty much everything," the Doctor told him.

"Other than blood, is there anything else that will change?" Sookie asked.

"Damphir are part-vampire. He may manifest some other gifts as he matures. Chances are he's already stronger and faster than his human friends." When Sookie nodded, the Doctor pulled out a tablet and wrote something down. She walked over to the wall switch and turned off the lights. There was still some ambient light coming in from the backyard, but it was dark. "How clearly can you see things?" the Doctor asked.

"Like the lights are on," Rick answered.

While the Doctor turned the lights back on, Sookie asked, "When were you going to mention that?"

"Soon," Rick looked guilty.

"I'm guessing it's been a pretty handy trick," Fran gave her godson an arch look and Sookie wondered how often Rick had used his night vision to sneak out of the house.

Doctor Ludwig ignored the pointed looks shooting between mother and son. "You may not have had a chance to test this yet. I figure your Mom has kept you pretty well under wraps, but you may find you have a kind of built-in vampire detector."

"Like how?" Rick asked.

"Like you can tell when there are vampires in the area well before anyone else. It's like an alarm bell to you. You can tell where they are and how many," and Amy leaned back, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," Rick nodded. "I can. There was a vampire in Chester. Once I knew that's what he was it was like he was a video game playing in my head until he left."

"It's a good think you kept him secret," Amy told Sookie. "Damphirs were used by humans as vampire trackers. His gift will make vampires nervous. They won't know what it is, but the touchy ones will want to kill him on sight."

"Come on over here and show me those new chompers of yours," Fran challenged Rick. He smirked and was soon sitting next to the witch, trying to figure it out.

When his frustration resulted in the groan, the Doctor said, "Do what I did. Stroke over the knobs on the top of your mouth."

The result was impressive and Rick pierced his own finger. "Wow!" he said. "How did that happen?" The puncture healed almost as soon as it was made.

"Yup, all the best of both worlds," the Doctor chuckled. When Rick settled into his practicing, cheered on by his godmother, Amy turned to Sookie. "He'll finish growing in the next year or so, and then he starts his final transformation. He won't be immortal, like them, but pretty close, provided nothing happens to him."

"Same vulnerabilities?" Sookie asked.

"Silver won't phase him," the Doctor replied. "Other things will, though. He will become invulnerable to all but wood, but it will take a long time, maybe hundreds of years. Until then, a bullet can take him down the same as a Were, although as long as it doesn't hit somewhere too critical, he'll heal." She glanced at Rick again. "You should think about getting him among his own soon. I'm not kidding about the blood. If he's the only vampire, it will be hard for him to adjust."

"I'm trying to figure out how I'll get my hands on bagged blood in a small town like Chester," Sookie bit her lip.

"I have to hand it to you," Amy laughed, slapping Sookie on the knee and standing up. "You handled this like a champ! I always considered you my favorite breather!" She glanced again at Rick, "He's a handsome boy. When it's time to take him to his Father, you let me know. I'll explain anything that presents a question."

Later that night after Sookie got Fran settled in bed, she walked into the bedroom her son was using. His bed was still made, so she followed his sounds to the open door of the bathroom. Rick was standing in front of the mirror, practicing dropping and retracting his fangs. "You're getting pretty good at that," she said out loud.

Rick jumped and gave her that guilty look all boys give their mothers. "Sure didn't think tonight would turn out this way," he laughed, and then looked in the mirror again.

"Me either," Sookie grinned, then walked in to sit on the closed toilet seat. "Funny. I always thought the talk I'd have with you in front of the bathroom mirror would have to do with shaving, not fangs."

"I guess," Rick shrugged, but he was blushing. "Oh, shit!" he said, and then blushed some more, "Sorry!"

"What is it?" Sookie asked.

"Nothing… I mean… I guess they're just sensitive," Rick was blushing more.

"Oh," Sookie breathed out, figuring out the problem. "I'll just wait for you in your bedroom while you sort it out." Rick walked out after a minute. The fangs were retracted, and he flopped down in the chair rather than sit next to his Mother on the bed.

"So, I heard the Doctor Lady say I'll live a pretty long time," he said tentatively.

"Yes, she did," Sookie nodded.

Rick looked away the way he did when he was turning things over in his head. "Does that mean I can make other people vampires?" he asked.

Sookie frowned, "I don't know," she answered him. "It didn't occur to me to ask. Why? Is that important to you?"

"Well," Rick said, "If I could, maybe I could help out Aunt Fran."

It clicked then for Sookie. "Oh," she said, gathering what she needed to say next. "I know the thought of death is pretty scary," she told her son. "Goodness knows, it scares me, but there is something about it. It's part of life. The old need to make room for the new."

"But why should we lose her if we can keep her forever?" Rick asked.

"It's more than what you want," Sookie spoke carefully, "It's what the other person wants. I want you to know that it gives me some peace of mind knowing you'll be around for a long time, but that kind of existence isn't for everyone. Some people look forward to the end of a life well lived. They feel… well, they believe that something waits for them and if they don't die in this world, they can't grow further in the next."

"Is that why you left my Father?" Rick asked. Sookie found her eyes lasering in on him, but he was looking purposefully away.

"I didn't leave your Father," Sookie said, her words a little more forceful than necessary. "I didn't," she repeated. "He left me."

"But you didn't want to be vampire, did you?" Rick looked at her now. Suddenly, Sookie saw things through different eyes. If she said she hated the idea of becoming a vampire, she'd be telling her son she hated some part of him. She couldn't do it, and, in her moment of clarity, it occurred to Sookie for the first time what saying the same words had sounded like to Eric.

"I didn't at the time," she said carefully, "but things change."

Her son seemed satisfied, and he moved closer to her. "Everything will be okay, right, Mom?" he asked. He laid his head against her shoulder and Sookie realized he was as tall as she was.

"It will be now, Rick," she wrapped her arm around him. "You going to be able to get up tomorrow and make yourself your own special cup of Joe?"

"Very funny!" he nudged her, then he looked worried. "How am I going to manage this when we get home? We have guests and folks in and out of the kitchen all the time."

"Well," Sookie breathed in, "In vampire-friendly places they have mini-refrigerators in their bedrooms and microwaves, too. We can get you set right up!"

"I love you, Mom," Rick said quietly.

"I love you, too," Sookie told him back.

That night, Sookie thought about everything she'd heard. She thought about what it meant and what was coming. Sookie realized that whether she wanted it or not, their days of hiding in Chester were numbered. Rick would need help in growing into his heritage, and he would need protection. ' _Two more years_ ,' she thought and it was as much a prayer as it was a promise.


	13. Chapter 13 - The Wheel

**Chapter 13 – The Wheel**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

It was surprisingly easy to make Freyda happy. Eric applied himself to the task as he would to any complex problem but, in the end, the solution was simple. All Eric had to do was pay attention.

For example, Eric knew his Queen favored lavender. She used it to scent her clothing, hiding small sachets in the drawers of her wardrobes. Eric arranged for small bouquets tied with ribbon to be delivered to Freyda's office every evening. The florist he used sourced the flowers from all over the world, following the seasons, so Freyda would never miss a day. He didn't attach a card and it had taken almost a week before his wife realized he was behind it. She was delighted and told him so. She stopped saying thank you, but she would wear a sprig of the latest bouquet tucked in a lapel or somewhere on her person. She would catch his eye, glance at the sprig, or show it in the palm of her hand, a signal between them that she saw and cared.

The next success Eric scored in courting his wife was noticing a single teacup in her chambers. It wasn't a real teacup, more of a miniature with painted flowers and 'Made in Japan' stamped on the bottom. No one seemed to know why the Queen kept it. It wasn't in a prominent position, but, instead, tucked toward the back of a shelf, yet it was a shelf that was always in Freyda's line of sight. Eric took a photo and had some research done. The cup came from a child's tea set that would have been sold when his wife was a young girl. He had several antique dealers work on it, and, one evening, he presented her with a wrapped box.

"What is it?" she asked him. It had been a good night. They had entertained human business people. Freyda was particularly effective. She was sophisticated, charming, and everyone left with a feeling that the continued relationships between themselves and vampires would make them all rich. Eric almost hesitated giving the box to her, she had been so adult in her actions, but his instincts insisted that this was actually the perfect time.

Freyda carefully sat down in her tight, pencil skirt and stiletto heels, the box balanced in her lap. She swept her long, thin fingers over the rosebud wrapping paper and arched her eyebrow. When he shrugged, she slit open the paper and slowly tore. He could see her thoughts flitting across her face. She was probably anticipating lingerie, but when the plastic window revealed the miniature tea set pieces nestled in their cardboard holders, her mouth fell open. Suddenly Freyda wasn't a powerful vampire, she was a little girl who had been given her favorite thing.

"Oh, how did you find it?" she asked in a voice so much younger than her own.

"It doesn't matter," he smiled at her, "It is worth it right now," and he leaned down and kissed her head.

She insisted on making love with him that night. She was pliant and enthusiastic and, if she noticed the moment his mind wandered away and his movements became more mechanical, she didn't say.

It became part of his routine, one more thing in the long list of things he did every night. Rise. Wash. Decide what new thing to do for Freyda today. Return emails. Conduct business.

Some evenings, the hour he allotted for being thoughtful in the matter of his Queen was spent in research. Sometimes that research was nothing more than spending time with Freyda, observing what interested her. Sometimes the research involved trying to dig into his wife's past to see if there was some experience that she might enjoy revisiting.

Something Eric came to understand was that although Freyda was much younger than himself, there was still very little history about her to be found. For one thing, she had no birth certificate. That was unusual. Most children were registered in a church or some official book. Freyda was not. He knew she had been born in the United States and that her parents were immigrants. He knew that her parents had been among those poor and desperate souls who sought to make a better life by following the wagon tracks to the West. Beyond that, he could find nothing.

Eric suspected that at one point in her life, Freyda had spent time in a whorehouse. It was in her sexual proclivities. She preferred multiple partners, primarily female. While she seemed to enjoy cock, she most often asked for a female wearing a strap-on.

Eric knew he wasn't expected to share her bed often, and he didn't anticipate that would change any time soon. He complimented Freyda's current pets, and even pointed out potential partners for her from time to time. He knew she preferred redheads, and leaned toward women who were thinner and taller than herself. Eric assumed there had been a significant relationship in Freyda's past that she was revisiting. It happened.

Then, one night, Freyda asked that Eric not come to visit her. He pressed her, teasing that she was making him too curious and she gave in. It was her look of combined anticipation and self-loathing that truly caught his attention.

Freyda took him with her to another part of the palace. It was a room she had prepared for these encounters, and Eric was reminded of the dungeon he once maintained below Fangtasia. In many ways it was less sophisticated than many playrooms he'd seen, a cheaper version, complete with black velvet flocked on red wallpaper.

For the next few nights Freyda remained in the chamber, indulging in an orgy of sex and blood. She allowed humans to use her in every way, and she used a few, particularly men, in brutal ways. Eric took on the role of dungeon master, arranging things to his Mistress' orders, but not participating until finally, Freyda ordered it from him. She was far gone then, glutted on sex and blood, and she ordered him to fuck others and then allow himself to be fucked.

It wasn't anything Eric hadn't done in past, but it wasn't something he'd anticipated from his blond, carefree Queen either.

When she rose the fourth night, she signaled she was done. Her clothes were in rags and she was filthy. They all were. Eric carried Freyda back to her apartments. He offered to help her bathe, but she turned from him and sent him away. Her eyes were haunted, but, the next night, she greeted him as if the past nights had never happened. Her eyes were clear and her smile bright, and Eric realized she used the ritual to exorcise some part of her past.

When they had a moment alone, Eric took a chance. He slammed Freyda against a wall and kissed her hard, as brutally as she'd demanded in her dungeon. "There is no part of you that I don't accept," he growled, grinding against her. "I am yours." Her eyes were startled but, before she could protest, he stepped back just a suddenly. He softened his expression and stroked her cheek, "You are beautiful, Freyda, all of you. You are complex and you need never be ashamed with me." When she still said nothing, he traced her lower lip with his thumb, and left her, dazed in the corridor.

Eric didn't see her for several hours, and he wondered if his action had been a mistake. He was in his office, setting up teleconferences when she came to him. He didn't turn around, allowing her to make the first move. Her hand crept over his shoulder and he captured it, and then turned his head so he could kiss her palm.

"You're not appalled?" she asked.

"About what?" he kept his voice light, and then fully turned, capturing her legs between his knees, pulling her closer. He looked up into her worried face.

"Well, about…" and she faltered.

"About what never happened?" he purred. Eric kissed her belly and turned his head so he could lay his cheek against her. "You needed it, Freyda. I could see that. It freed you in a way." Her hand came up, her fingers running through his hair, and so he said, "We, each of us, have those things we need. Vampires need sex in all its variety. Where is the harm?" He squeezed her against him, "And besides, I think you enjoyed it. There were parts you seemed to enjoy very much."

"I guess," she answered, and Eric knew. Vampires, and particularly women, rarely came to this life in a pleasant way. Freyda's ritual gave her the physical stimulation she craved while allowing her to punish herself for wanting it. Eric also knew without her telling him that she would never invite him to witness her particular ritual again. He could see that Freyda was starting to see him as her Prince, and although she wouldn't hide that she had darkness within her, she wouldn't willingly share that darkness again. She needed Eric to be the light she rose to find.

And so, Eric found other things that his Queen enjoyed. He knew she loved the freedom of flying with him. She would turn in his arms, her hair free to the wind, laughing as carefree as any child. She loved the feeling of swimming through clear water. Above all, Freyda loved speed.

Eric ordered his Corvette out of storage and had it transported to Oklahoma. When it arrived, he invited Freyda to come driving with him. Together they raced down the highways, roof down and pedal to the metal, the wind beating against their faces. For her Coronation anniversary, Eric gifted her with her own Corvette. It was the perfect vehicle for Oklahoma. It was made in America and popular with humans. He gifted her with lessons taught by a famous race car driver and he rented a local race track for her exclusive use for the night.

Of course, not everyone was happy with the change in Freyda and Eric's relationship. There were those in Oklahoma who hoped the relationship would founder, so they could find advantage in the Queen's favor.

The Queen's current favorite was a woman with a fake Eastern European accent who called herself Kitty. She was attractive and quite talented in bed. At first, she had been cordial to Eric, even welcoming. When the Queen shared her, Kitty was quick to suggest things and make accommodations but as the Queen's friendship with Eric grew, the woman became sullen. Freyda didn't see it, but Eric noticed an increase in misunderstandings, and a tendency in Freyda to suddenly become suspicious with no cause, and he blamed that on Kitty's influence. It was annoying, but Kitty, like all the Queen's pets, was human. She wouldn't last. They never did, and to destroy her would create strife that would take time to heal between Freyda and himself. Yes, in the big flick of things, Kitty was a minor inconvenience in the overall strategy that would win him a Queen and restore his standing with others.

If every evening now included an hour devoted to the business of courting his Queen, Eric slowly admitted to himself that in the last hour before the sun rose to take him, he needed another ritual. In that time when most in the Palace had already fallen into their day death, he would stand at the window, and as the line between earth and sky lightened, he would allow another woman to dominate his thoughts. He tried not to think her name. He tried not to admit that it was Sookie Stackhouse who had him watching the coming day.

But, it was.

Eric would remove the small bag he secreted in his travel coffin, the one that held the panties he'd taken from the floor of her room in Denver. He rarely opened it, knowing each time he did just a little more of her was lost to him. Most evenings, just seeing it was enough. Clutching his memento, Eric would spend these few minutes every dawn thinking of the way his Sookie loved the sun, how she smelled in his arms when she had been outside, soaking up its rays. They grew wheat in this part of Oklahoma, and there were evenings as the breeze that foretold the dawn rose and blew over the hills that Eric would smell it, the ripe, dry scent of grains awaiting harvest, and he would close his eyes and see her funny, lop-sided smile. Summer nights were worst and the best. The humidity would mix with the heat and he could almost imagine himself back in Louisiana, flying to her, landing on her porch, and having her run out the front door, jumping into his arms.

A little over a month after his deliberate courtship began, Eric's dawn thoughts were interrupted by his Queen. "What happened in Denver?" she asked.

Eric had been so lost in his remembrance of Sookie's laugh that he hadn't heard Freyda enter his chambers. "Why do you ask?" he used the time it took to ask the question to school his face into a simple smile and tuck the bag into his pocket before turning toward his Queen. Freyda's face was troubled and Eric stepped toward her and ran his finger over the creases in her forehead. "Something is troubling you," he sighed. "Tell me what it is."

Eric knew not to accuse or to suggest that Freyda was listening to gossip. Acknowledging that possibility never led to productive conversations, so, instead, he waited.

Freyda bit her lip and glanced at the horizon. As a younger vampire, she would feel the pull of dawn more strongly than he, so to wait for this moment to confront him was costing her. "I heard that Sookie Stackhouse was there," she said. She waited until she'd said the name to look into his eyes, perhaps hoping to catch some hint.

"That's true," Eric made sure he kept his expression focused on Freyda, showing her she was his only concern. "She was there in Felipe's retinue. De Castro told me she's working for him." Eric didn't shrug and he didn't offer more. He waited to see how deep Freyda's suspicions ran.

"So…" and Freyda glanced away again, "You didn't…"

"Come, Dear One," and Eric walked forward, happy to see the Freyda was willing to allow him to wrap her into his arms. "You are worrying over my past. Let me tell you what happened. I did speak with her. She was sitting with the King and she became angry with me, which, as you know, she often did. She yelled at me in front of many witnesses and stormed off. Felipe told me that he is thinking of pursuing her."

Eric pulled back and waited until Freyda looked up at him. "Seeing how she was, how quickly she turned to petulance, it reminded me of all the reasons I left her. It freed me," he lied. "It made me realize how much better my life is now." Eric bent down and kissed the woman in his arms. He put everything behind it, his experience, his respect, and his genuine affection for Freyda. "My life is better," he repeated, "My life is better with you."

"I knew it was just a rumor," Freyda sighed, and with little prompting, she joined him in his bed so they could rise together tomorrow night.

When the Queen fell into her day death, Eric used what was left of his extra time to run over the list of those who might have put this latest idea in Freyda's head. It was obvious someone had said something, and whoever it was had to be someone in Oklahoma who had connections with those at the Summit. It also had to be someone close enough to their lives here to know about Eric's pre-dawn ritual, perhaps someone who guessed at its meaning. The possibilities narrowed and Eric spent his last hour devising how he would go about killing his problem, when the time was right.

When the invitation arrived for the December Narayana Summit, neither Eric nor Freyda were anxious to accept. Going to Narayana Clan territory meant there would be no avoiding Felipe de Castro. Stan Davis would be there as well, and it would be nearly impossible to maneuver between them without losing ground with one or the other of the contentious Monarchs.

The situation between the Kings and their allies was worsening. There had been several incidents. Couriers for De Castro had been assassinated within the borders of Oklahoma only two weeks ago. Freyda called for an immediate and thorough investigation. She refused to communicate directly with either Stan or Felipe until the findings were available, stating she wouldn't be influenced. Both Kings railed and threatened, until Eric sent his own warnings, reminding them that going too far in bullying Freyda could result in his challenging them to personal combat.

There were other, more subtle games being played as well. Eric was certain that Kings both had spies placed in the Court. He spent as much time ferreting them out as he spent in observing his Queen. He thanked his foresight in developing a solid business team around him before these distractions began, otherwise, his various money-making ventures would have suffered. As it was, he had plenty of cash and other assets to wield influence and buy ears when he needed them.

A week had passed since they'd received the invitation and they were still debating what to do. Eric suggested they take a break and drive into the city to visit one of Eric's restaurants. Although it was still the early part of December, the streets and stores were decorated for the holiday season. In Eric's human times, celebrations were common at this time of year, too. They involved drinking and a huge bonfire, welcoming the turn of the seasons. Now, everything was covered in gaudy reds and shining colors. He and Freyda were standing on a street corner near a park. There was a church across the way and the bell started to chime. Eric turned to say something and he saw the sadness on Freyda's face. "What is it?" he asked her.

She shook her head, and started to walk forward, unwilling to say, but Eric stopped her. He glanced at the bodyguards who followed them, "A minute," he said, and they moved away. Pulling her in front of him, Eric took her hands in his and waited, his head cocked to the side until she met his eyes.

"Your eyes are rimmed in red, my Queen. Something disturbs you," and he ran his thumb under her eye to capture a single tear, which he offered back to her.

"It's the season," Freyda shrugged.

Eric didn't ask more. He didn't need to. For a poor girl who found herself sold into a brothel, Christmas and its themes would be uncomfortable. When they returned to the palace, Eric excused himself. It took several phone calls and some planning, but he was certain his plan was the best one.

The next evening as they met, Eric asked for a few private minutes. He gave her a card and stepped back. When Freyda opened it, her eyes tightened. Eric had handed her a Christmas card. He could see she thought he was being hurtful in some way. When she looked at him, he said, "Please, Freyda, open it."

Inside the card he had placed two plane tickets to Barbados. He also included a photograph of his home on that island. "Come with me," he said as she stared at the tickets. "There are warm waters and a huge moon. We can swim as long as you like. There are twisty roads and I'll get you a motorcycle. We can lay in the sand and dance to music and forget this whole thing. No Summit. No human holidays. No politics," and he took her hand. "Just us and streaming vampire movies."

"You paint a pretty picture, Mr. Northman," Freyda smirked.

"Then, say yes," he smirked.

And so they missed the December Summit. They explained they were having a honeymoon of sorts. It was the kind of excuse that would fend off any criticism.

For three weeks, they played. Freyda loved the freedom of the island. There was a luxury to the place and Eric's servants were efficient and discrete. After the first night, Freyda didn't want sex. Instead she craved the physical comfort of being close to him, and Eric gave that to her. Still, when the final week came, Eric could sense Freyda becoming anxious. "Are you tired of me already?" he asked her.

"No, that's not it," she assured him. "It's just… this is so wonderful. It's like a dream and I keep wondering when I'll wake up."

Each night, Freyda would lie down on the canopied bed, her golden splendor arrayed over the crisp, white sheets. Each night, Eric would walk out the double doors and stare out across the water, thinking of another golden head. His heart, while Freyda was animate, was occupied, but it was when she wasn't moving and talking; when the world became still, that the calling within him reasserted itself. ' _It will fade_ ,' he told himself, but he was beginning to doubt it ever would.

When they returned to Oklahoma, Freyda made her apologies and disappeared. She didn't emerge from her retreat for four nights. Eric had her servant tell him when she came back, but declined hearing any description of her appearance. He knew. There was something about Freyda that required her to punish herself when she found happiness, and Eric couldn't begin to fix that. All he could offer her was his understanding and his open arms when she was ready.

It was nearing Spring when the invitation came from Stan Davis. He was hosting a combination party and informal meeting in Dallas. The invitation was issued from the Clan Chief of Zeus, so there was no question of their declining. "I don't think we can tell him we are taking another honeymoon," Freyda laughed, tapping Eric's chest with the heavy, embossed card.

Preparations for a trip like this were involved. They would spend a whole week as guests of Stan Davis. There would be activities ranging from formal dinners to evening excursions into the city. At least one evening would feature Stan's expensive game room. He was a fan of classic pinball machines and his arcade featured a surprising number of them. Some were laughably easy, but most had the kinds of play and action that even vampires had to work to defeat. He told Eric it was the way the machines beguiled you into believing they were easy, when they weren't that attracted him. "Not what they appear on the surface," the Texas King would joke. It wasn't lost on Eric that the same could be said of Stan.

As Eric sat on the chair in her chambers, Freyda paraded first one outfit and then another. Eric teased and joked, making her laugh until she was silly. When she finished pulling off clothes, she collapsed across the bed, and said, "I don't think I've ever been happier."

"I am happy, too," Eric grinned. He was. He wasn't ecstatic. It wasn't the out-sized happiness he felt in the presence of another, but he was content.

"When we return, I'd like us to talk about bonding," and Freyda stilled, watching him for his reaction.

Eric had planned for this, of course. Bonding with the Queen was a prelude to being named King. It was his next logical move, why he had been courting her, but he found his mouth struggling to tilt up into the smile he knew he needed to give her. She was waiting, and he dug deep, "I would be honored, my Queen," he said simply.

"I love you," she said, and Eric knew that once they were bonded, it wasn't likely to last.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

"You understand the assignment," Mr. Cataliades asked again. It wasn't like him, to be so fussy. If Sookie didn't know better, she'd have thought he was nervous about something. "The King will be in New Orleans with the main retinue conducting his annual visit. You will be with the business team, auditing the accountants and chief deputies for the northern Areas. Felipe feels there should be more revenue coming to him in the way of tithes and he thinks there are some who are cheating him. Please tell me again what you will do when you get off your flight?" Mr. Cataliades was steering Sookie toward the gate with the connecting flight to Shreveport. Once she was on her plane, the demon would go to his own gate with its direct flight to New Orleans.

Sookie was angry with herself. She'd had less than a week's notice of this assignment, and she'd agreed on a whim. She'd had to make special arrangements and advance more money for last-minute tickets and reservations than she wanted and no sooner had she finished than she received a call that Fran wasn't doing well. Sookie was anxious that her old friend's health would take a turn for the worse, and Sookie would be too far away to go to her. Fran had what her doctor described as a mini-stroke. She was mostly recovered, but she needed oxygen when she slept.

Now the plane tickets were paid and she'd given her word to Felipe. If she cancelled, she'd lose all the money, and it was no small thing to back out on a deal with a vampire. He wouldn't forget, and next time he might insist on something to guarantee her performance.

Sookie glanced around at the people in the airport. For some reason, she couldn't stop seeing Rick's face as she'd left the house earlier. He was stressed, his pale face paler than usual as he asked, "What if something happens while you're gone? How will I tell you?"

The plan was that Sookie would be in Louisiana for a week. She had a burner cell phone and she'd given the numbers to Lora and Rick. She wouldn't be able to answer calls or messages during the night, but she told them they could text her and she'd get back to them. It was probably taking things too far, but Sookie still worried that, in spite of giving his word, Felipe would decide to find out more about his telepath.

Of course, once the audits were complete, and provided nothing was found, Sookie would fly to New York from Shreveport and make her way home. What she told both Lora and Rick was that if something did happen to Fran while she was away, Lora should take Rick to Boston and Sookie would fly there to meet them instead.

When the attorney cleared his throat, Sookie snapped back from her own thoughts. At his prompting, Sookie repeated for the second time, "I get off the plane, I meet Ted the accountant, and we go along with the group headed for Area 5. I should look for Rubio Hermosa. He is my official liaison and he will be transporting me to the places I need to be." She looked at the attorney again, "Is there something going on, Desmond?" she asked, "You're as jumpy as a cat on a skillet."

"No, not at all," Mr. Cataliades huffed, making him look even more guilty. "It's just this is the first time you will be separated from the main group and I want to make sure you don't find yourself abandoned somewhere. I take great interest in you, Miss Stackhouse, and your well-being is most important to me."

Since it was clear she wasn't going to get anything from him, Sookie decided to lighten the mood. "Frankly, I figured you were doing me a favor, making sure there'd be hundreds of miles between me and Felipe," Sookie chuckled.

"He is not as interested in you as he pretends," the attorney said dryly.

"Well, thanks for that!" Sookie snorted. It was a relief, but at the same time it stung a little.

"It's just that it is good to know where things truly stand," Mr. Cataliades said in a way that sounded like an apology, but then he leaned in closer and said, "These are perilous times. There is a gathering going on in Dallas in which our King has taken an unusual interest. He has chosen to take this trip to Louisiana at a time he generally doesn't travel. He is taking an unusual number of courtiers with him to New Orleans."

"What are you saying?" Sookie asked.

"Just that there are signs there is more planned than we are being told," the demon said in a low voice, "So keep your eyes open. You know that part of Louisiana. If it looks as if there is something odd happening, get to your old home. There are wards in place there that will protect you from those who would mean you harm."

"So what are you telling me?" Sookie hissed, suddenly afraid. "I somehow hightail it to Hummingbird Lane and then what? I just sit on the porch and hope for the best?" She hadn't meant to sound so angry, but she was wishing she'd just put her foot down and refused to take this trip. Felipe hadn't said she was required to come, but she thought it would be a good chance to use up the number of times she'd promised to work for the King. Now, hearing this, she wasn't so sure. She thought about not getting on the plane. She thought about turning around and heading right back home to Chester.

"It is too late to turn back," Mr. Cataliades patted her hand and Sookie knew he'd read her growing panic. "All could come to nothing. I may not be doing you any service by sharing my fears, but I do believe in being prepared. Do you have your old house key with you?" the demon asked.

"Well, no!" Sookie snapped. "Not like I'd have any reason to carry…." And then she stopped. She pulled her keyring out of her purse, and realized she did still have it. It was odd, but when she'd thought about throwing the key to her Gran's house away, she couldn't do it. She figured it would be useless anyway. The new owners would change the locks, but she felt a sentimental attachment she couldn't explain. She held it up, and said, "I'm sorry. I do. I'm sorry I'm snapping at you, too. This is just taking me by surprise and I'm scared."

"Well, as I said, this may all come to nothing. Just so you know, the key will work," the attorney assured her. "And if you do go to visit, you should find the spells feel familiar."

"Are my relatives back?" Sookie asked.

"No," Mr. Cataliades smiled at her in his old, comfortable way. "No, but their magic remains strong there. They wanted you to always have a safe place near their portal where you could feel you were at home."

The call came to board Sookie's plane and she quickly hugged the attorney before stooping to grab her small suitcase. "Take care," she told him.

"And you, too, Miss Stackhouse," he waved.

xxxXXXxxx

Stan had decorated his game room with multi-colored lights draped over the high ceiling and dropped panels that helped muffle some of the noise. There were servants drifting among his guests, carrying trays loaded with shot glasses of flavored bloods. He had a 'raw' bar set up along one wall of the room, populated with a selection of attractive young men and women. When asked if the donors were from the Registry, Stan laughed, "Hell, no! I prefer free range!" Eric thought it was extraordinarily risky behavior, but he didn't say anything. Stan would have taken it as a personal challenge, and the relations between the Texas King and himself were already frosty enough.

As soon as they'd arrived, Stan moved to separate Freyda from Eric using any number of excuses. He wanted to show her his newly-installed infinity pool. He wanted to ask her opinion about evening venues. He wanted to introduce her to someone in particular. In each instance, Freyda insisted on bringing Eric with them. When Stan started to become ugly about it, Eric moved toward Freyda and stood slightly in front of her. He draped his arm around her in a way that sent a strong message. Every vampire there would see his physical touching of the Queen and interpret it to mean that although the pair weren't bonded, they were preparing. If Eric and Freyda were bonded, it would change the dynamic of power in Oklahoma, and Eric could see that didn't suit Stan.

Another waiter drifted past, offering Eric a shot glass. "Were," he murmured. Eric waved the tray away. While most of the flavors were harmless, some, like Were, had an intoxicating effect on vampires. Eric's eyes flicked around the room, looking at those assembled. It was a mixed bag of Zeus rulers and their companions. This was a 'family' night, so bodyguards and servants were kept outside lounging in waiting areas furnished with televisions or tables until they were summoned, or their ruler signaled he or she was leaving to look for other entertainment.

There was music piped in, but it was hard to hear over the clang and ringing of the pinball machines. There were sirens and flashing lights when someone hit a high score, and the bell sounds when scores were added. Freyda was wearing a long, white dress. She was talking with the Queen of the Dakotas, and Eric saw her laugh as both women turned to look in his direction. He gave her his indulgent smile. She was so happy and it added to her beauty. He wondered again what her reaction would be when they bonded and she felt that part of his heart he hadn't been able to stamp out. Would she remain so generous with him or would jealousy for his ghost twist her happiness away?

As much as Eric didn't love her, he didn't wish Freyda ill either. His life with the Queen was pleasant. They watched each other's back. They didn't make unpleasant demands of each other. He wished Freyda was a little older and had been joined in a marriage before. Eric had no desire to be the first to acquaint her with the practical side of vampire arrangements. He wished her to have her illusions, and he wondered how he could delay their bonding for a while longer.

The 'raw' bar was being switched out. One group was leaving while another was coming in to take their places on the couches and chaise lounges. Eric watched them more from curiosity than any particular interest. The group coming in was slightly less physically attractive, but that was to be expected. As the evening progressed, and the guests drank more, their tastes would become less discerning. Eric noticed he wasn't the only one watching the nearly naked flesh parade past.

Eric would never know where the first blast came from. All he knew was he was knocked to the ground, and a heavy vampire he thought was the King of Kansas fell on top of him and didn't move. Eric could smell the burning of the King's flesh and he recognized it as the stench silver made when it was injected into a vampire's body. There was another thump. Eric realized later is was a second explosion, but his eardrums were shattered and he could only hear the muffled noise of the percussion blast against his head. Eric was crushed further and the pressure in his head made it hard to think.

He started to wiggle out from under the pile and he saw Freyda. She was still standing, but her dress was splashed with red, and for a crazy minute, Eric thought of Sookie the night he met her, drifting toward him in her white dress with its red flowers.

Stan ran past her, knocking her to the side. Freyda swayed, but she didn't fall down. Instead, when Stan passed, Eric saw his Queen stare down at her chest. She reached her hand up and Eric saw that there was the feathered end of an arrow placed precisely between her breasts. He watched Freyda fall to her knees, and then, slowly, crumple to the ground, her sightless eyes looking toward him.

His Queen was gone.


	14. Chapter 14 - Tables Flip

**Chapter 14 – Tables Flip**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Eric struggled to crawl out from under the pile of bodies on top of him. He was sure the Kansas King was finally dead, but then the King moaned. Eric sympathized. Having silver embedded in you was excruciating. It didn't stop Eric from clawing and kicking the vampire, though, and the Kansas King moaned a few more times, although he still didn't move. It was likely that Kansas was badly wounded, but a moaning vampire, given time and blood, would heal.

Eric could see that Freyda was already falling apart. She was so young; her body could not have offered much resistance to the wooden dart embedded in her heart. An older vampire's magic might have held off final death a little longer, although even someone as old as Eric would likely have been killed by such a direct strike. Eric struggled harder. Although he knew he didn't love her, although he knew she was already gone, Eric felt the need to touch Freyda one last time before she crumbled to dust.

It was not easy. He had the use of only one leg. Based on the pain and lack of mobility, he thought his other leg was broken. His shoulder screamed with pain as well and he wondered if he'd suffered a hairline fracture in addition to the other break. Already his bones were knitting and the process added to his discomfort. He needed blood and, from the sounds of the screams from the donors, others did, too.

By the time he was free, Eric's stiff leg was starting to move. He crawled across the floor to where Freyda lay. Their guards arrived at the same time he did, coming from the areas outside the game room. Eric figured Stan had locked down the doors. It would slow down the guards and courtiers in seeking out their monarchs. "The Queen!" one of his guards sighed.

"Go to our quarters," Eric said quietly. "There is a box there with her jewels. Empty it and bring it back here."

"It will be difficult, Lord," the guard replied and confirming Eric's suspicions, he said, "The Texas King is sealing the doors."

It was the smart move. All would be prevented from leaving. The next logical step would be to take everyone's cell phones. Once Stan knew he controlled what information could get in and out, the questioning would begin. Eric had no doubt there were surveillance cameras in the game room. Stan's security people were probably already reviewing the tapes, figuring out who brought in the bombs and who had fired the crossbow. "Explain your mission to the men at the door," Eric told him. "Offer them your phone and your weapon," and he motioned the guard on his way. The other guard stood over them, his eyes moving around the room.

"How bad?" Eric asked. He waited for the guard to meet his eye. Eric purposely kept his voice low. He could hear certain decibels now, but his full hearing was not restored. Eric relied on the echoes in his head and his ability to read lips to be fully understood.

"Most of the humans are dead," the guard was telling him. "I think whoever it was used percussion charges." Eric nodded, it made sense. Unfortunately, for humans with their soft, living organs, percussion charges were usually fatal. Even if you didn't fall at first, the internal trauma would cause you to bleed out. There was no stopping it. Percussion charges would only stun vampires. Since a vampire's organs were mostly frozen, they could be hit by the sound waves, but suffer little permanent damage. Based on the Kansas King's appearance, there was some silver shrapnel used as well. The King was sitting up now, and there were guards and others surrounding him. Eric could see places on his skin and body where small tendrils of smoke escaped, signs of embedded silver burning him.

The shrapnel was intended to slow those vampires who didn't fall at once. Kansas must have been standing right next to the bomb since Eric couldn't see many more vampires who were 'smoking.' Kansas seemed to have taken the brunt of the impact.

The combination of percussion and limited silver was logical. Whoever planned this hadn't meant to kill vampires. Everyone knew the wholescale slaughter of vampire rulers, frankly of any large number of vampires, would trigger a blood feud that wouldn't stop until whomever was responsible, their Maker, all their progeny, and human relations were finally dead. It was this more than any other thing that convinced Eric the attack was the work of another vampire. Any other race would have gone for the kill.

Once you accepted the idea that this was the work of vampires, it led easily to the next conclusion; the point of the operation was to stun the vampires attending, allowing a team to execute a precise kill. In other words, this was an assassination attempt. Eric recalled Stan running. It was his brushing across Freyda that had turned her. The dart that killed his Queen had been meant for Stan Davis.

Eric tested his leg. It was sturdy enough to allow him to move into a sitting position next to Freyda. Her skin had gone grey. Her eyelids were flaking. Eric glanced over to see the Nebraska Queen leaning over her human companion. She was feeding from him, draining him dry. She was trying to turn him, and Eric felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. If the human was too badly damaged, the transformation wouldn't take, but the Queen's desperation spoke of the depth of her feeling for the man lying before her and, for some reason, Eric thought of Sookie Stackhouse.

The donors had stopped screaming. Eric glanced in their direction. He could see them, lying in bloody heaps. It was likely most were killed in the blast anyway, but the screams he'd heard while he struggled to escape the weight of bodies told him not all had died right away. They were dead now, and that would enrage Stan. If the tapes showed any involvement by those humans, there could be no questioning. The dead made poor witnesses. Eric could see a few waiters in the piles, too, their jackets stark against the bare flesh of the donors. Injured vampires were hungry vampires and as he was thinking that, Stan's palace guards started moving among those still on the floor, distributing bags of blood.

Eric swung his gaze around the room and was surprised to see Amy Ludwig. She was moving among the wounded. Eric looked around and recognized at least one other supernatural doctor he knew, walking from group to group. Stan must have summoned them.

"Your phone, please," a guard was saying. He held out a bag of warmed blood. Eric reached into his pocket and handed over his phone, exchanging it for the bag. Holding the bag in one hand, he sank his fangs into it. The blood tasted amazing and he felt strength and vitality flow through him, rushing toward his injuries and helping his healing process accelerate.

"You hurt?" Amy Ludwig was standing behind him. At the same time, his other guard returned, the Queen's enamel jewelry box in his hands.

"No, I was lucky. I was shielded from the blast by Kansas. If he wasn't so fat, I would have escaped injury altogether. I'm fine," he told her. He couldn't look at the Doctor. He couldn't stop looking at his still wife lying on the floor, the fletching of the arrow bolt standing up like some sort of bizarre handle from its place in her chest.

"She caught the cross bolt meant for Stan," the Doctor confirmed. "Stan has the place locked down. He called a bunch of us, but there's not much for us to do. I'll probably spend the next hour or so digging out some silver, but, other than that, the butcher bill was pretty light."

"For some," Eric replied.

The doctor lay her hand on his shoulder in a rare show of affection. "I'm sorry for your loss, Viking. Freyda seemed to have suited you."

"Yes, she was a good Queen," Eric replied. He knew he needed to find Stan. He knew he needed to start the conversation about who would take over the throne in Oklahoma before another did, but somehow he couldn't find the strength to rise.

Eric decided that Stan could wait. Everything could wait for Freyda to complete her fading. He would gather her dust, according her one last moment of respect from the vampire mate she chose.

Eric nodded, a dismissal to the doctor and the guards, and then allowed himself to slip into downtime. He thought about Freyda. He remembered each interaction, each expression. He could not find it in his heart to return the love she said she felt for him, but he could find affection. It hardly seemed enough, but it was all he had to give.

When Amy Ludwig saw Eric Northman sitting over his dead Queen, she was tempted to tell him about Sookie Stackhouse and the son he didn't know he had. She imagined his face when she dropped her own bombshell, telling him that now that he was free he could get on with the poorly considered, unconventional life he thought he'd left behind. She walked over, chuckling under her breath, but then she stopped. There was something in the Viking's face that stilled her laughter. Amy was many things, but somewhere, under her bluster and bad attitude, she was someone who liked Eric Northman. He was a pain in the ass and he thought too much of himself, but he was basically a decent vampire, which was rare.

She could see he was suffering. She had heard that he and Freyda were actually a couple, that it had become a love match. It was the kind of thing soft-headed fools talked about, and Amy had scoffed at the suggestion, telling her source he clearly didn't know what he was talking about. Now, seeing Eric slip into downtime, holding Freyda's hand, she wasn't so sure.

"Well, I'm glad you weren't hurt," she said instead, and, turning, walked away to examine others.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

"It is a pity you lost your Queen," Stan acknowledged Eric, but then turned away, giving the Viking the clear message that he was being brushed off.

"I would appreciate being included in the interrogations," Eric persisted. "I don't dispute the attack was aimed at you, but it was my Queen who paid the price." Freyda was the only vampire casualty. While there were injuries, no other vampire would be finally dead as a result of the attack.

"As an observer," Stan agreed, "and so long as you intend to do something with the information." And there it was. Eric might not like Stan much, but he had to admire his cunning. The Texas King had managed to set aside the stress of his near-fatal accident and already figured out who he could strong arm into risking revenge. Eric was that patsy.

"And if I am successful?" Eric asked.

"Well, there is no question of your assuming the Oklahoma throne," Stan said it in the most offhand manner, as though it was self-evident. He did go on to explain his rationale, "After all, you were never more than a consort. Had Freyda named you King, or had you bonded, it might have been different. As things are, you had one job, which was to keep her safe, and we all know how that turned out." Eric couldn't stop the quick flare of anger, and he realized it showed. Stan's eyes widened, and then he relaxed, leaning forward as one friend might do for another.

"Eric! You never wanted to be in Oklahoma to begin with. I can understand how you might have become fond of Freyda. She was a charming vampire, but if you return and take the crown you will never have more than temporary reign of a beggar kingdom. Because you didn't save her, every eligible vampire with an ounce of ambition will think to challenge you. How many will it take? Ten? A hundred before either you fall or the foolish stop trying? And then what? You think vampire monarchs will be clambering to do business with you? You will be shunned, and even those who will greet you as a friend will have something else to say when you leave the room." Eric listened to Stan's words and heard too much truth in them.

"You travel under a black cloud," Stan told him. "You stayed Sheriff when you could have aimed higher. You were at Rhodes. You were the only one who remained in existence following Felipe de Castro's takeover, and there are those who say you were secretly in league with him." Eric growled, but Stan held up his hand, "I don't think that, but it is part of the bad luck that follows you. You married a human! A human, Eric! And you fought for her! Your actions in that Fae business could have cost us all! Felipe would have been within his rights to end you! But he didn't. De Castro allowed you to continue, and how did you repay him? By murdering his favored Lieutenant, and don't deny it. Victor Madden was a small vampire with a tiny dick, but he was still your superior. Not exactly the kind of thing that inspires trust in others!"

"Then, you would prefer that I not return to Oklahoma." Eric prided himself on his ability to read a situation, but today the ground was shifting too fast, even for him.

"I don't think anyone would object to your returning temporarily," Stan shrugged. "After all, you would have things to pack."

"I want to provide Freyda a proper memorial service," Eric drew himself up, using the words as a cover to his mental scrambling. He was suddenly a vampire with no country, no allegiances. It was terrifying and heady, all at the same time.

"You were fond of her, weren't you?" Stan asked. His voice was not unkind. "I had heard that, that your marriage was becoming something more."

"She was an exceptional vampire," Eric agreed, "As you say."

"Look, as Clan Chief, I'll make it known that I expect you to be in Oklahoma for a few months, tying up loose ends. I'll give it until then to convene a tribunal to name Freyda's successor. Will that give you enough time to find a place to land?" And with that, Eric knew that Stan didn't mean Eric to land anywhere within Zeus. It was everything he could do not to hiss in frustration.

Instead, Eric pulled his lips up into a smile, "Thank you, Majesty," he bowed. "I am sure I will have things well in hand by then."

Eric was among the crowd who headed down to Stan's dungeons. The Viking's thoughts twisted and twirled. It had been many years since he'd found himself in a position where he literally had no one offering him a position. When he was within Sophie-Ann's retinue, the offers were frequent. When Felipe de Castro took over, the number of offers escalated. Then, Appius returned with his paper chains and the offers dried up. Of course, Eric was contracted, and, by his own hand, he'd doubled his sentence. He lost his freedom and everyone knew it, but it was more than that.

Eric was certain that the offers that came now would be few and far between. Vampires didn't respect other vampires who showed too much attachment to humans, and that was what Eric had done. He'd made no secret of his anger over his Maker's arrangement. He was public in his battles to set the contract aside, and, most damning, he doubled the time of what everyone knew he considered to be a sentence as opposed to a favor, all to secure a future for his human.

It was those actions that destroyed his standing with his fellows, but, Eric knew, faced with the same circumstances, he'd do it again. He was sure that other vampires knew it, too. It made Eric Northman a weak vampire, at best, a laughingstock at worst.

Vampires didn't offer vampires like him a place of honor. They offered vampires like him a grudging favor and made him pay for it over and over again. He would have no more value than Bill Compton, maybe less.

' _I need something to change my status_ ,' Eric thought to himself, and he knew that whatever it was, it would have to be a bold stroke to reinstate the respect he'd lost.

The human under the knife was gibbering with pain. Considering the body parts scattered around him, Eric wasn't surprised. Eric examined the man's face, trying to place him from the party upstairs. The man's costume, or lack thereof, didn't offer clues. In the end, it didn't matter. The vampire Stan used as his torturer had a deft hand and Stan seemed convinced he had the right person.

The stink in the air explained why the human hadn't bled out. As quickly as a toe, or finger or ear was removed, the torturer leaned forward and used a glowing knife to cauterize the wound. The method stopped bleeding in humans and Weres as effectively as vampire saliva, but far less pleasantly. Eric could hear the human's heart galloping in his chest as the knife approached again. There was a slight whine in the man's blood, which Eric associated with high stress. If the torturer didn't get the outcome Stan wanted soon, they might be robbed of the opportunity. This human sounded as if he was headed for a stroke or heart attack soon and, if that happened, Eric thought it likely the torturer would suffer for his incompetence.

But the torturer proved he was well-suited for the challenge. "Isabel…" the human wheezed. "Isabel…" and he looked out into the crowd, his bloodshot eyes wild. Eric wondered if Stan suspected someone among them. Usually taking an eye early was a favored method with these interrogations. With both eyes, the human would be able to see his confederate.

It was a fraught moment. The torturer paused, the knife hovering over the human's face. Every vampire stopped, turning to look at Stan's Second, and then became more still in that way vampires had.

For her part, Isabel stood her ground. Eric wasn't sure whether he admired her or pitied her foolishness. She had to know coming down here that the human would betray her and yet, she did anyway, standing where the human could see her. Isabel had been with Stan for a long time, as long as Eric had known either of them.

In an instant, Stan was before her. Guards moved to either side, but no one placed a hand on her. For her part, Isabel stood her ground, a slight smile playing across her lips. "Why?" Stan demanded, his fangs extended.

"I never forgave you," she said, and boldly met his eye. "I know you can't understand, that you never will, but you took the only thing that was important to me."

Stan leaned forward, and, as Eric watched, Isabel's head bowed and, after a few moments, bowed lower. Her face contorted and finally she fell to her knees. Eric recalled Sookie telling him after an adventure here in Dallas that she was pretty sure Stan could communicate with his retinue telepathically. Eric hadn't thought much of it at the time, but watching the scene playing out in front of him suggested possibilities. There was no doubt in Eric's mind that Stan was using his psychic connection with Isabel to punish her.

Stan's clenched jaw and Isabel's sudden frown told Eric that the connection went beyond telepathy. It was as though the Texas King was literally digging in Isabel's skull. "Hugo," Stan growled. "You betrayed me and all here for a human?"

Eric remembered Hugo. Obsessed with Isabel, he had divorced his human wife and devoted himself to her. Hugo had betrayed vampires to the Fellowship of the Sun, a human hate group masquerading as a religious cult. Vampires were taken and Hugo was sentenced to death. Isabel was punished, too, but, in time, she had been forgiven. Now, it was clear that for Isabel, it was not something she forgot or forgave.

"Hugo loved me!" Isabel gritted out. "He was foolish enough to try and destroy my rivals. I told you I could help him understand, but you wouldn't listen!"

Stan was furious, "He sought to injure vampires! There is no excuse for that! They are not like us, not equals!" For Eric, the exchange highlighted so much of what he saw around him. Vampires had chosen mainstreaming. For vampires like Stan, it was a way to come out from the shadows and assert what they felt was their natural domination. For others, like Isabel and, in many ways, for himself, it had opened a dangerous door. Through that door was a reawakening of sorts, but it was also sentiment, and sentiment was not tolerated by vampires.

Stan was standing over Isabel. He was using some kind of mental push, punishing his Second further. Isabel was cowering, her face contorted with pain.

"Who?" he growled at her. "Tell me who paid you and I will give you a clean death for all the service you gave me."

"No…" she whimpered, but Stan was on her immediately, redoubling his efforts.

"Don't lie to me!" he yelled. "I see it in you! I see you checking the balance! I hear you saying the date! I will make this continue for a long time, this pain you are feeling. Tell me!"

Isabel didn't say a word, but then, without warning, Stan backed off. "Wrap her in silver," he told his torturer. "Make it tight. I want the flesh to burn from her bones. Feed her enough blood to keep her alive. Make it last until I tell you otherwise." The Texas King leaned over Isabel, "You bitch!" and he kicked her. Isabel didn't resist, the blow landing in her belly, sounding like a shoe deflating a balloon. "You couldn't just tell me? After everything I've done for you? You had to make me scrape it out of your head?"

Eric almost pitied her. Isabel's end would take a long time and she would suffer mightily until she found it. As Stan stalked toward the stairs that led back to the main palace, he caught Eric's eye. "Come with me, Viking," he said stiffly.

Eric fell in line behind the Texas King and followed him into what appeared to be Stan's office. "So, are you interested in taking me up my offer?" the Texas King sat down behind his desk and gave Eric an expectant look.

"You would give me the name and expect me kill him under the guise of taking my revenge," Eric didn't ask. He didn't have to.

"It would go a long way toward resurrecting your reputation," Stan shrugged. "Of course, you could end up finally dead, and that would end your troubles, too."

"I take it the vampire in question is powerful," Eric watched Stan. The Texas King was practically gloating.

"He won't be easy to kill," Stan shrugged, "but, on the other hand, I don't think anyone would be surprised if you were the one to go after him."

"Felipe de Castro," Eric supplied the name. He was the only vampire who could create this reaction with Stan.

Stan sat back waiting for Eric's commitment. It was the smart move. There was no point in providing further information until the Viking agreed, and they both knew it. Eric nodded a single time.

"I won't wait forever," Stan smiled, after all, they were all friends now. "If you can't get this thing done quickly, I will have to take matters into my own hands. It's a matter of honor, but, if you have the balls, it may interest you to know that your former King is currently in New Orleans. I'm sure even now he's waiting for news of my demise, so he can move into Texas."

"It would seem Felipe is working on establishing a trade corridor," Eric replied dryly.

"I think you give him too much credit," Stan scoffed. "He's old school. He thinks it's all about the real estate. The vampire with the largest territory wins." Stan laughed, "Tool!" Stan didn't offer a chair, and Eric didn't expect him to. "If you want to move tonight, I am prepared to offer you some support. No guards, of course, but I have a private jet. It could have you in New Orleans in a little over an hour."

"What is Felipe saying about why he's in New Orleans?" Eric asked. The Nevada King's cover story would suggest how long the King would linger once news of the failed attempt filtered out of Dallas.

"His usual tour," Stan steepled his fingers. "Business audits. Strong-arming for tithes. He arrived just yesterday. I'd expect him to linger for another week or two." Stan grinned, his look feral, "You're thinking about it, aren't you? If you could pull this off, you'd regain ground with many of us. Do you think you still have the assets on the ground?"

"I accept your offer of the plane," Eric told Stan. It was clear Stan would swing his support to Eric if he succeeded, but the Dallas King had no interest in offering an actual alliance, and certainly not at this stage. Stan didn't want to be implicated if Eric was taken down, and the Viking couldn't blame him. "I will consider it a favor to be repaid in future trade deals," he added. It was better to make the terms of these offers clear from the beginning. Stan was likely to press any advantage.

Stan was laughing, "Well, if you succeed, I'll expect to collect in the first three opportunities…"

"The first two opportunities," Eric countered, "and they must be opportunities of advantage to both of us."

"Since you will probably be dust before the end of the month, I am willing to concede the point," Stan was all good humor now. Eric figured he was a good diversion for a King who had just found out his Second was betraying him. Stan would have his own reputational shoring up to do over the next few weeks. To not have detected the rot so close to his core would suggest a certain carelessness and Eric was certain it would figure in Stan's future conversations with Zeus monarchs; it might even cost him his role as Clan Chief.

Eric made his excuses and walked back toward the game room. There were already personnel there, cleaning things. ' _We are so used to violence, we have those who erase its traces on speed dial_ ,' Eric thought to himself. There was something about the implications of mainstreaming that told Eric that the world they knew, the world of torture and retribution, would change.

His guards were waiting for him. One was holding the enamel box that contained Freyda's dust and fangs. Eric took it from the guard's hands. "I will be asking you to take the Queen back to Oklahoma without me," he told them. "I will not be returning to the capital immediately, but will follow in a few days. I will alert the Chancellor and he will meet you at the plane. There will be a memorial service." The guards were watching him closely and it was everything Eric had not to smile. He could see their suspicion, their loyalties slipping from him with each passing minute. "For tonight, Freyda will rest with me," he told them, and then turning, walked away. The guards didn't follow. It told Eric everything he needed to know.

As he walked, Eric's mind raced. He thought through what he needed, and how things would have to be arranged. He had thought of this possibility. He hadn't planned on taking Louisiana until his time with Freyda was served, but it was something he had considered. To be King of Louisiana meant he would not have to be looking over his shoulder. He would be in a place he enjoyed and with a larger population of vampires than most kingdoms had available. He had done well there, and he knew there were many in Louisiana who still pledged their loyalty to him personally.

While this was not what Eric planned, it was hard not to see how Freyda's early demise was, in some ways, providential. It had not been so many years since he'd been in Louisiana. Most of the vampires he knew, especially those who helped him kill Victor Madden, were still in place. Although he rarely heard from them, he didn't doubt they would answer his call.

There was the matter of clearing his plan with Amun Clan. Prior to a takeover, and that was how Eric wished this to be viewed, the Clan Chief needed to give approval. It was a formality, but an important one. Eric was sure Stan was surveilling guest rooms, but, in this case, it was probably for the best. Anything the Texas King overheard would increase Stan's confidence in the Viking, and that might prove helpful later.

Eric booted up his laptop. The top story on the blogs was Stan Davis surviving a failed assassination attempt. The story went on to say the perpetrator was assumed to be a disgruntled human employee and there was a warning to vampires about screening their human staff. There was a line that said there were no reported casualties, although several were injured. The article never mentioned Freyda, and Eric knew it was purposeful. It was well done and, although Felipe de Castro wouldn't be certain, the story should serve to keep the Nevada King from beefing up his security or fleeing the state, fearing reprisals. He would have no reason to suspect that Eric Northman would be coming for vengeance.

Next, Eric opened the back of his travel coffin and removed one of the row of burner phones. He found the stairs and walked up toward the roof of the palace, Eric acknowledging the sympathetic looks he received from those he passed. He murmured thanks for the kind words vampires gave him about Freyda.

When he reached the door, he told the guard, "I wish to be alone for a few minutes." The guard nodded and stepped aside, allowing Eric to exit the building.

As soon as the door to the roof closed, Eric took off into the sky, flying toward a dark place in the landscape. As soon as he landed, he texted Pamela Ravenscroft, letting her know the number was his. He followed it by placing a phone call, and Pam answered right away,

"Are you in Dallas?" she asked.

"I am," he told his daughter. "Can you talk?"

"Wait," she told him, and the line disconnected.

While he waited, Eric texted Karin, letting her know he'd call her shortly. He texted Thalia, telling her he needed to talk privately with her and that he'd call her within the hour. He raced through his contacts, one after the other, setting up times, and warning them to move to a safe place for their conversation.

The phone rang and the caller ID told Eric it was Pam. "Freyda is finally dead," he told her. "I am free and I intend to take Louisiana. I won't order you."

"You never need to," Pam answered. "You know I'm with you," and they worked through the basic plan.

It took many hours and Eric found he felt far better by the end of it. Thalia, in particular, was enthusiastic. What became clear was that Felipe had arrived in the Palace two nights ago, blustering and pushing people around. He had over twenty vampires with him, but that would change. When the news broke this evening that Stan Davis survived, arrangements were made to ship ten of the King's retinue back to Las Vegas during the day. Felipe would be remaining in the state for another week, maybe more. The current Lieutenant, Emil, was not performing to Felipe's standards, and revenue was down.

Things in the palace hadn't changed much since Eric's departure. The guard corps was more honey-combed with spies for other kingdoms. Victor Madden had not taken care to root them out when he ruled in De Castro's stead. Emil was, if anything, lazier, and, if a takeover was attempted, Pam assured Eric that most guards in the palace were unlikely to interfere. None of the old passages had been blocked. Some had been discovered, but not all.

Throughout the evening, Eric texted and planned. Karin would head to that section of the state closest to Texas, near Lafayette. There was a strong Sheriff there, planted by Madden and remaining loyal. He had, at best, five vampires. He was young, they all were, and Thalia scoffed when Eric insisted she take back-up. "What if they surrender?" Thalia asked.

"No prisoners, no pardons," Eric told her. "If they came with Felipe or Madden, they are ended. It will send a strong message and make sure that others think twice before challenging me for this ground."

Eric could hear Thalia's delight. It was her kind of fight, no quarter given and none asked.

"I will spread the word," she promised him. "What about Karin?"

Eric was sending his older daughter to the Area just north of New Orleans. The loyalty there was to their local Sheriff first and De Castro somewhere down the list. Eric knew the vampire in charge, and Karin did, too. Eric trusted Karin to know the right thing.

"Indira can take care of my Area," Pam told him when she called back with an update. "I'm in the Palace now. Maxwell Lee is here. I'll be enlisting him."

"I would like to arrive tomorrow night," Eric told her.

"We can have everyone in place for rising the next night," Pam's voice was fierce. "I can tell you where he rests."

"I won't take him when he's defenseless," Eric protested. "I want witnesses. There will be no doubt that I defeated him."

"Provided you do," Pam teased.

"I'll need a sword," Eric was not interested in humor. There was too much at stake.

"I can arrange that," Pam said after only a moment. "I know where Wybert's sword rests. It should be heavy enough for your hand."

"It will be an honor to carry that blade," Eric replied. Wybert had been beheaded defending Sophie-Ann. He was an honorable vampire who fell in battle and Eric felt an unreasonable sense of optimism. The plan was thin. It relied almost entirely on old loyalties and speed of execution, and, yet, Eric felt he would certainly win.

He flew back to the Palace roof. The guard was standing there, waiting for him. Eric could see him speaking on his phone as he descended. "The King wishes you to wait here," the guard told him.

When Stan joined him, he asked, "Why shouldn't I have you staked? I left instructions that I wanted everyone to stay within the walls."

"You didn't mention it to me," Eric waited. If the King intended to follow through with his threat, Eric would make a run for it, or a fly for it, which amounted to the same thing. "By the way, I will be taking you up on your earlier offer. I'd like to leave tomorrow night, if that suits."

Stan motioned the guard to leave. "So, you will try?" he asked.

"I will win," Eric assured him. "There is only one thing left to do. I have to call the Clan Chief of Amun. I don't want any confusion over what I will do, and the outcome when I succeed."

"King Northman," Stan was smiling. "It has a ring to it, Viking. The plane will be ready when you are."

That night as dawn approached, Eric visualized the way the line that separated sky from earth slowly became visible, revealing itself as light approached. Eric thought about the world that lay ahead, a world where he would be made King or finally die in in trying. "Sookie would laugh," he said out loud and then laughed to hear the words. It was pathetic, how much he'd lost because of his obsession with her. Now, he stood to gain his freedom and secure his future because he was following vampire rules.

It wasn't lost on Eric that he was now free. He could reach out to her, but Eric knew now that bringing Sookie Stackhouse to his side would defeat much of what he stood to gain. Sookie Stackhouse was a step he could not afford to make.

Eric Northman thought about his future, and his future was a crown, a throne, and a vampire court if he could live to claim it.


	15. Chapter 15 - Leaf Falls

**Chapter 15 – Leaf Falls**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

The music though his headphones allowed Rick to escape. A particular song would start, and his head started nodding. His foot tapped and if it was a really good track, he'd get up from his desk and dance. He couldn't explain why he enjoyed dancing so much. He knew his mother liked it, too, and sometimes they'd pause as they prepared dinner, turning the speakers up, and dancing around each other in the kitchen of the house in Chester.

The thought of his mother brought Rick back to the present, and he swallowed. His fangs itched, and he focused on willing the sensation away. The whole fang thing had thrilled Rick at first. He had twin razors that came out of the roof of his mouth, and what kid didn't dream about that? He spent hours making them click down, and then retract, practicing like some runway model in the bathroom mirror, but shortly after Rick became comfortable with his fangs, he developed an embarrassing side effect. When his fangs ran out, Rick almost always ended up with a boner. Just feeling his fangs slide from their sheaths would trigger it, and, if he wasn't careful, he would find it made him cum in his pants.

It wasn't the kind of thing he felt comfortable telling his Mother, and he sure wasn't going to tell Auntie Lora. It was bad enough he would wake up with a wet spot in the bed some mornings. When that happened, he'd bundle the sheets off and run them through the washing machine himself. Neither Aunt Lora nor his Mother said anything about it, but his Mother had given him a kind of look the last time it happened that told him she'd noticed. Before she agreed to go away on this last business trip, his Mother said it was probably time they had 'that sex talk' and Rick thought he'd just about die. He was pale anyway and when he blushed, it was pretty much a whole-body experience. Fortunately, this trip did come up, so she said they would have 'that talk' when she got back. As far as Rick was concerned, it could wait for longer.

Of course, Rick knew something about what happened between people. You couldn't cruise the Internet without getting some sort of idea what sex was about. Lately, he'd noticed that whenever he was around older people, adults, he'd get pictures in his head, snapshots mostly, and some of those were about sex.

All of it made him decide that he probably wasn't old enough to be figuring this out, so he started practicing control instead. When his fangs itched, he'd practice making them stay in place. When he sipped blood, which he was doing three or four times a day now, he'd make his fangs stay retracted. It was hard, but it kept the other reaction reasonable.

The wet dreams didn't stop, though, and Rick decided to talk with George about it.

George Hermosa was now Rick's best friend. They were in most of their classes together at school and George slept over at the B&B as much as he slept in the dorms. Rick liked George's little brother and sister, too, although Maddie, George's sister, had a tendency toward flirting. Rick found he liked it. In fact, he liked it too much, and for a kid his age that was a little too creepy to consider, so he started keeping his distance from her.

When George confronted Rick about hurting Maddie's feelings, Rick told George his secret, that he was part-vampire. He showed George his fangs and George swore not to tell anybody. They came up with a cover story for Maddie, and George was as good as his word. They were tight now, so confiding this new development wasn't so difficult.

"Shit, happens to me all the time!" George shrugged. "Sometimes I use my hand and help it along. My dad told me it's perfectly natural for guys our age and that when we get older, it won't happen as often."

Hearing that was a relief. Rick was worried that this was just one more thing that was making him different from everyone around him.

Although he wasn't yet thirteen, Rick was shooting up. His hands were big, and his feet were huge, growing three sizes in less than a year. Pretty much everything hurt all the time. His Mother called it 'growing pains' and Rick believed her. He towered over most of the kids in school now, which would have been great, except he was so uncoordinated. He tripped over his own feet and when he ran, which he tried not to, he resembled some big bird, his legs and arms not quite looking like they fit with the rest of him.

"You'll grow into your body," Aunt Lora assured him, but that didn't stop the ribbing he took from some of the kids at school.

Then, there were the other things. There were the stray thoughts he couldn't stop from popping into his head. He'd figured out they were from other people, and he wondered how his Mom lived like this all the time. There were the fangs, of course, and there was the way he'd begun to hear things and smell things so clearly. He knew who didn't wash their hands and who needed a shower. He could hear secrets whispered from across the room and when kids shouted, it felt like the sound was stabbing his eardrums.

Even in Chester, a town that had known him all his life, Rick knew he was starting to develop a reputation for being odd. It hurt.

The music track ended and Rick closed his math book. He was reaching down to get his German book when he caught sight of his Aunt Lora standing at the door.

He pulled his headphones off and said, "What's up?"

"It's your Aunt Fran," Lora told him, and she ran the back of her hand across her cheek. Rick smelled what he assumed were her tears. They smelled fresh and salty, and, despite seeing her so upset, Rick felt his fangs itch.

"What's happened?" Rick thought of his Auntie Fran. He thought of how frail she'd been and he gripped the edge of his desk, afraid of what was coming next. He heard a crack and looked down to see he'd broken the edge of his desk without even trying.

"She's in the hospital," Lora told him. She walked over and placing her hand on his shoulder, then glanced down at the strip of wood in Rick's hand. "It's all right," she assured him, and Rick stood up, wrapping his arms around this woman who had known him all his life.

"Is she going to be all right?" he asked.

"They don't think she'll die," Lora whispered against his shoulder, "but she's had another stroke, Sweetie. She's on machines right now, and they aren't sure…" and Lora made a choking noise.

Rick heard it then, ' _aren't sure she'll wake up_ ,' was what Aunt Lora was thinking, and it made Rick's throat close and his eyes well.

"Does Mom know?" Rick asked.

"Not yet," Aunt Lora shook her head. "I came up here first. It's already night in Louisiana, so you know she won't be checking her safe phone for awhile."

Rick nodded. It was one of the hard things about his Mom traveling. She would text him or call him during the day while the vampires were sleeping. She told him how she hid her phone and the importance that he not text or call her during night hours unless it was a real emergency. He figured his Mom probably shut the phone off for hours at a time, just to make sure some random text or sales call didn't alert the vampires around her that she had it, but he also knew she couldn't rest not knowing that he had a way to tell her if he was in trouble.

"Are we headed to Boston?" Rick asked.

"Not until the weekend," Lora leaned back, looking into his face, her arms resting around his waist. "Your Aunt Fran isn't going anywhere just yet, and I know you have exams this week. There's nothing to be gained by rushing out there right now."

"I'm not sure how I'll do, knowing this," Rick shook his head. "I mean, are you sure she's going to be okay?"

Aunt Lora knew that Rick was really asking was if his Aunt Fran would die. "The doctors assured me that barring another stroke, she isn't going anywhere," and she squeezed him. "They are monitoring her and she's in the best place possible."

Rick had a hard time sleeping that night. He dressed in the morning and drank blood in his room, then ate something downstairs in the kitchen. "I'll let you know if anything changes," Aunt Lora told him, pulling him down so she could kiss his forehead. Rick could smell the dried tears on her and figured she'd cried earlier.

"Sure," he nodded, anxious to get out of the house. At least at school he knew what was needed. He could attend classes, listen to lectures, and smile at all the usual conversations. It was predictable, and at the moment, Rick felt the need for something predictable because with Mom so far away and Aunt Fran sick, the world didn't seem so safe at the moment.

"What's wrong?" George asked halfway through the morning.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" Rick challenged to which George gave him a look that said, ' _I'm not stupid!_ '

Rick sighed. "Problems." He went on to tell George about his Aunt Fran. He told George about his Mom's business trip, too. He'd never told George that his Mom and George's dad knew each other, or that his Mother had a different name. He figured George's dad hadn't said anything either, because George would have said something to let Rick know.

"My Mom's in Louisiana," Rick said carefully, and he watched for George's reaction.

"Really?" George replied. "You know that's where my family's from."

"Here's the thing," Rick said, and he looked away, not wanted to meet George's eyes. "Your Dad works for a vampire King, right?"

"Felipe de Castro," George confirmed. "How did you know they call them Kings?"

"Because my Mom works for that King, too," Rick told him. "You can't say anything, but your Dad knows my Mom. He knew her from a long time ago, from before she came up North."

"My Mom figured your Mom had to be from down South," George grinned. "She said your Mom's accent was too real for a summer girl. You think they knew each other from Area 5?"

"What's that?" Rick asked.

"Area 5 is the northern part of Louisiana. My Dad likes to tell stories about it. I guess that even though there was a Queen or King in New Orleans, Area 5 kind of ruled itself. There was a Sheriff there called the Viking. Folks pretty much worked for him."

"Viking?" Rick asked. He could feel a buzzing in his head and his fangs were itching.

"Yeah, like a real Viking, from over a thousand years ago. He was way powerful because he was so old, or something. But Dad said he was a great warrior, too, and people respected him. Dad said the Viking gave him his first shot at leadership."

"What happened to him?" Rick asked, "The Viking."

"Dad said there were some changes. I got the impression the King, de Castro, was involved and the Viking got transferred somewhere, or exiled. Something like that. Not killed though. Dad didn't say it, but it sounded like the King was too scared to challenge him."

"Do they do that often? Fight, I mean?" Rick asked.

"Vampires? Yeah, pretty often," George nodded. "Dad had to promise Mom when they got married that he wouldn't challenge anyone or if he did get in trouble, he had to let her know. They don't talk about it a lot, but I get the impression that vampires get killed, well, finally killed pretty often."

"You wouldn't think that would happen," Rick thought it over. "I mean, they are immortal and everything."

"Dad says vampires have short tempers and they take their honor too seriously," George said it like someone who knew. "So, what do you think your Mother does for the King?" George asked.

Rick glanced at his friend before saying, "She helps out with business meetings, something like that. Not a secretary exactly. She can read people, and the King pays her to do it."

"Read people?" George was giving Rick a sharp look, "Like with her head?" When Rick didn't answer, George said, "Shit, Rick! I know who she is!" When Rick still didn't say anything, George took a deep breath, "Okay. Look, you don't have to say anything, and I'm not going to tell. If I'm right, though, she's with my Dad, and you know he'll take care of her."

"Thanks, George," Rick told his friend, "That makes me feel better," and it did.

When Rick got home that night, it was to the news that Aunt Fran was stable, but there had been no change. She was still unconscious and no one knew when she'd wake up. There was a text from his Mom, telling him the trip was going well and not to worry. She knew about Aunt Fran and told him that she was sure everything would turn out okay. She told him to be brave and that she knew he would. She told him she would see him in Boston on Saturday and that they would stay at Aunt Fran's house.

Rick ate dinner and headed up to do homework. It was the one night a week that the B&B served dinner, and Aunt Lora and Sarah were busy in the kitchen. There were six guests and another two tables with people from the schools in the dining room. Rick knew they'd need his help later with the dishes but, for now, his job was staying out of the way.

He had been working for a while and he figured he'd get the call from downstairs soon when his phone dinged. It wasn't unusual for his friends to text him, so he turned the phone over and checked the screen.

The message was from his Mother. He felt the jolt of adrenaline as he thumbed across it, opening the message.

' _I love you. You are the best part of me and you make me proud. Never forget. Find your Father_.'

' _Where are you?_ ' Rick's fingers flew.

He waited. There was no bubble that told him he was getting an answer.

' _Mom_ ' he texted, and he waited. Nothing.

With a mounting sense of panic, Rick headed down the stairs. His fangs had descended, but, in the moment, he just didn't care.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

"Is everything in place?" Eric had risen from his travel coffin earlier that night to find himself in a safe house in New Orleans. He knew this was one of Maxwell Lee's houses. It had been discussed in advance as the best location. The house was close to the New Orleans Palace, but still secure. Pam was fond of the tall, black vampire. It was a friendship based on more than their compatibility in business. Maxwell was a cunning and ruthless warrior. He rarely offered or accepted clemency and that suited Pam's fighting style well.

Eric didn't entirely share that philosophy. Eric believed that loyalty freely given, particularly on the heels of mercy, could be stronger. Pam argued that under their current circumstances, it didn't make sense to take the chance. 'Once someone has switched their fealty, they get too flexible for me,' she told him. Eric wondered what made a former Victorian lady become so bloodthirsty. In some ways, Pam was more savage than her sister, Karin the Slaughterer, and that said something.

"We are ready, but we are spread thin," Pam told him, but it was saying what Eric already knew.

"There won't be much room for finesse," Maxwell added. "I hope we're not going to be expected to stop and sort."

Eric looked hard at Lee. Lee was staring back just as hard, but then he dropped his eyes and Eric saw the tall vampire and Pam exchange a look. Eric set aside his doubts. This was a time for decisiveness.

"So you are asking my permission to clean the slate," Eric said. He met first Pam's eyes, then Maxwell's, and then he nodded once. They all knew what he meant. If there was a vampire or another creature claimed or protected by one of Eric's followers, that person would be spared. Everyone else would die. It was a messy plan, but in an operation where everything depended on speed, it was the only approach that had a reasonable chance of success.

"Make sure our spies know what's coming," Eric said shortly. "And Pamela, you will need to let the heads of the Areas know who the spies are ahead of tomorrow night. If we kill our own, it will make it difficult to recruit others." In many ways, this was the riskiest part of the operation.

The spies would be warned early. They could stay in place, trusting that they would be spared when the killing started, or they could flee ahead of the trouble. If they fled, there was a chance that Felipe or his people would notice. Eric wouldn't fault those who ran. To be revealed as a spy was to carry a death sentence if Eric was defeated. Eric found himself reviewing the list of names and making guesses as to who would still be in place come tomorrow night.

"No problem," Pam grinned.

"This thing is going to be bloody," Maxwell Lee stated again, interrupting Eric's thoughts. It was unnecessary, the vampire's repeating, but Eric recognized that Lee was testing Eric's resolve. Pam hissed, but Eric waved his hand.

"It's okay, Pam," he told her. Turning to Maxwell, Eric took a step forward. He topped the dark, trim vampire by half a head, and he was more heavily muscled, but it wasn't size or strength that mattered. "I will rule here," Eric said in his quiet, killing voice. "I will make it known that any who challenge me will suffer the consequences, and tomorrow night those consequences will be stacked in piles for all vampires to see."

"Of course, Majesty!" Maxwell grinned broadly, "And I am honored to be able to help you deliver that message!"

Both Maxwell and Pam bowed, and walked up the stairs, on their way to work phones. They would spend the remainder of tonight delivering messages and finalizing the time table with their contacts across the states, coordinating the time of attack. It was agreed that Maxwell would return to the Palace before day break. He would have things ready when Pam and Eric arrived through the back streets to the secret doorway.

It gave Eric pause. He had no reason to doubt Maxwell Lee, but what in this life was ever certain? He wished he had a blood tie with the vampire, but he knew that only when he was King could he get that. Were he to ask now, Maxwell would doubtless turn him down, and Eric would do the same in Max's position. A blood tie would label Max as Eric's vassal. If Eric was struck down, Max would be beheaded too. Still, trusting those who weren't of the blood was a risk.

In the case of Pam, Eric didn't doubt her loyalty for a second. She was his progeny, and although he'd freed her years ago, the connection between them remained strong. He knew she would fight for him out of both love and respect. If he asked, she would meet her final death beside him.

For the others who had pledged to fight, those vampires like Maxwell Lee, Eric suspected their enthusiasm flowed more from their hatred of Felipe de Castro than any particular love for Eric Northman.

In the years since Eric had left Louisiana for Oklahoma, it seemed few to no improvements had been made. New Orleans was still an open city and it attracted vampires from both the New and Old Worlds, but once they arrived, they found little to keep them. There was no ministry to help newcomers start businesses. There were no agencies to assist the newly arrived to find places to live or communities that would welcome them. The lack of services didn't mean the vampires were ignored, though. They would quickly find they'd been placed on census lists and their tithing bills, ordering their tribute to King Felipe de Castro started soon and arrived regularly.

Eric suspected that if one were to study the flow of vampires who arrived in just New Orleans, optimistic and hopeful, one would find that equal numbers could be found for those vampires who left, poorer and dispirited. It was the only thing that explained why that, in spite of the popularity of New Orleans, the welcome other species extended to vampires here, the population hadn't grown.

Of course, there were those who were lucky enough to land jobs working in the palace and businesses of Felipe de Castro. Usually, joining the King's payroll meant good jobs with above-average pay. It was widely known that those jobs located in Las Vegas met the profile. The King's jobs in Louisiana did not. The pay was bad and the hours long. Those unlucky enough to be assigned to Arkansas fared even worse.

It was no wonder that even those who took Felipe's money welcomed an alternative.

It was apparent to Eric that although Felipe held Louisiana and Arkansas, and had for many years, he had no real plan for developing either territory. Pam described it as holding the former kingdoms in a perpetual state of subservience. She told him no single thing illustrated how badly they were treated like the list of losers Felipe had appointed to run the states in his stead.

Since the days of Victor Madden, the role of conservator or regent was passed from one lackluster lackey to the next. According to Maxwell Lee, the latest in that line, Emil, was not the worst, but far from the best. Lazy and prone to gossip, Emil maintained a stable of donors whose profile was likely to get them all in trouble if human authorities were to find out.

Now, Pam, Maxwell, and the others who knew what was coming sounded hopeful, even enthusiastic. It was likely by this time tomorrow; the reign of Felipe de Castro would be behind them. If all went according to plan, the Nevada King's demise would be swift. Eric would claim only Louisiana and Arkansas.

Eric planned to cut Nevada loose. He had no use for a kingdom so far away. As far as Eric was concerned, crossing Clan lines was a sucker's bet, and he was hoping that the temptation of an open throne in a far richer kingdom would distract any vampire who considered challenging him before he had a chance to consolidate his position here.

There was every reason to feel hopeful. Those who had worked with Eric or knew him from his days as Sheriff of Area 5 trusted him to make their lives better. Eric had worked hard in those days to make sure the vampires under his care thrived. There were many stories of the Viking's fighting for those who owed him fealty, and since the coming of Felipe de Castro, those stories had grown. Now, whether it was by personal experience or by reputation, Pamela, Thalia, and Indira assured Eric, his coming would be welcomed as the promise of better times for them all.

Still, the fight was far from won. With the confirmation that de Castro had sent ten of his fighters back to Las Vegas this morning, the odds seemed roughly even. If you were just looking at numbers, those vampires who would support Eric outnumbered those personally pledged to Felipe de Castro by a margin of three to one, but there was a problem. Many of those vampires who were counted for Eric were newcomers and few of those had had any formal battle training. Pam thought it was possible that many had never seen a fight. They were, for the most part, soft-handed shop keepers whose last training came under the tutelage of their last King or their Makers if they had received any at all.

As for Felipe and his retinue, the Nevada King could count several hardened warriors among those who were in Louisiana with him. Angie, de Castro's Second, was in Shreveport. Eric had to trust that Indira and her supporters in Area 5 would be able to handle her. Karin was already somewhere in Baton Rouge, laying low and doing what she needed to be strong for tomorrow night. Thalia would have gone to ground outside Lafayette by now. Each of them had a few vampires with them, men and women they trusted.

For Eric, he would look to Pam and Maxwell Lee to form the core of his attack force. Once inside the Palace, they would rely on hidden doors to quickly move to the throne room and confront de Castro. If they were lucky, and Pam was right about some of the guards and other vampires in the Palace taking their side, the fight would be quick. Eric had no doubt he was more than a match for any vampire present, and flanked by his daughter and Max, they should form an almost unbeatable battle wedge.

Once the fight in the Palace was over, Eric would look for the code words from the others, letting him know he'd carried the night.

Eric promised that once things were sorted, he would call Russell Edgington back. Russell was Clan Chief of Amun. The conversation whose purpose was to inform Russell that he would attempt the takeover and that he was seeking permission had been encouraging. None of the Amun monarchs were happy with Felipe de Castro in Amun territory, and the fact that he'd left the kingdoms in such poor condition was seen as insult added to injury. Russell told Eric if he was successful, Russell himself would come to officiate at the coronation. "It will be good to have you back, Old Friend," the Mississippi monarch assured him. "I owe you a debt for marrying me to my Bartlett. I would be pleased to return that ceremony with another."

Eric wasn't fooled. If he failed, Russell would forget the conversation ever took place.

Many hours passed as plans were confirmed. Timetables were checked and then checked again. A survey of assets was taken, just to make sure no pocket of de Castro supporters would be left to try and mount a counter coup. Of course, that only counted if your monarch was still alive, and Eric had no intention of allowing Felipe de Castro to survive.

Maxwell came and took his leave, "I'll be at the Canal door," he confirmed. "I will be ready."

As Eric turned back to Pam, he realized he was tense. It was like this for him every time he had gone into battle. There was a rush of adrenaline. He felt as if he was a great war horse, scenting the wind and waiting for the trumpet to call him forward. His sword was sharpened and he had chosen the clothes he would wear.

Now, all that was left was the coming, and the rising to what waited.

"I have taken the liberty of preparing a celebration," Pam interrupted his thoughts. She gestured toward a hallway and she and Eric walked together to an open bedroom door. There were three women splayed across the king-size bed. Pam had selected well. Two were dark-haired and a third was red. Eric supposed Pam did it purposely as to avoid reminding him of Freyda. The women were glamoured and naked, thin chains and studs decorating their bodies. Eric had to hand it to her, his daughter had a fine eye and each one was tempting.

"Get your clothes off," Pam pushed against his chest. "If this is our last night, we're going to feast and fuck like champions!" Pam turned to the glazed-eyed redhead, "Help my Maker with his pants," she ordered, then turning to Eric, said, "She has absolutely no gag reflex! None!"

Eric couldn't help laughing. This was something he understood. It was only right that warriors should make an offering of their one last night of pleasure to the Gods on the eve of battle. Pam and Eric avoided each other, but they freely enjoyed everything the women had. It was a good night, and by the end of it, Eric was sated.

Pam sent the women on their way, texting for a driver to retrieve them. "He'll take them somewhere to make sure they recover," Pam smirked. "I really enjoyed the smaller of the brunettes. She may need a transfusion," and Pam wiped her lip with her thumb.

His daughter was so sassy; Eric couldn't help sharing in her amusement. "Thank you, Pam," he told her. "It was a night to remember."

"I'll see you at first rising," Pam grinned, and she grabbed his chest hair to help her rise up on tiptoe and kiss his cheek.

"Rest well, daughter," Eric replied, swatting her on the butt as she flounced from the room.

Eric flopped back on the large bed surrounded by the smells of sex and sweat. It was pleasant. As dawn approached, though, his thoughts turned, as they so often did, to Sookie Stackhouse. He thought of how she had looked, her eyes half-hooded, as he filled her body in Denver. He wondered where she was tonight, and he thought of her being wrapped in the arms of her human lover.

"Best for both of us," he whispered, then throwing his arm over his eyes, he waited for dawn to take him.

 **xxXXXxxx**

Sookie walked out of the terminal area toward baggage claim. She wasn't surprised to see Rubio Hermosa holding up the sign with her name. "How was your flight?" he asked as he executed his perfect bow.

It was hard not to acknowledge Rubio as more than Felipe's messenger boy. It was on the tip of Sookie's tongue to share information about George and school. As a parent, she shared the desire to discuss kids. Rubio looked away, signaling. "You have your luggage claim?" he asked. Sookie handed it to him and Rubio handed it to another vampire who was at their side almost instantaneously. Once the vampire left, Rubio turned, and he looked more relaxed.

"We have ten minutes. That vampire is also our driver. He will be with you most evenings. Angie is here. You know her." Sookie nodded. She knew Felipe de Castro's Second and didn't like her much. She remembered the night Angie spent at Eric's house; that terrible night when Eric was arrested for killing a Were. Angie was dancing on Eric's coffee table, grinding like a stripper, gouging long scratches into the table's surface with her stiletto heels.

"You know I can't read vampires," Sookie watched for the driver.

"No one expects you to. They are bringing in Area vampires, one by one, with their accountants and, in some cases, bankers or investors. Felipe refuses to believe that Area 5 tithes have dropped because business is down. He thinks there's still rebellion here and that local vampires are cheating him."

"I didn't hear that things were that bad," Sookie said. She wasn't any financial whiz, but she did follow the fortunes of northern Louisiana. From what little she'd read, with the discovery of natural gas there were fortunes being made in and around Shreveport.

"Felipe doubtless reads those same reports," Rubio was also watching, keeping his face neutral. "He fails to realize that without seed money and the support of a King, vampires struggle to get started. Humans are not anxious for us to establish ourselves. Vampires here are poorer while everyone around them gets richer."

"Sounds dangerous," Sookie replied, and Rubio met her eyes and nodded once. Sookie looked away, her anxiety level rising. "Where are the Weres in all of this?" Sookie was thinking of the Long Tooth Pack and Alcide Herveaux. He and his Pack were headquartered in Shreveport. When she'd been here before, in the days when Eric Northman was still Sheriff, the business of vampires and Weres seemed to cross quite often.

"They stick to theirs. We stick to ours," Rubio told her. "King de Castro doesn't believe in mixing with inferior races."

"So our boss is stupid on top of everything else," Sookie said sourly.

"I wouldn't share that sentiment with Angie, but, yes, I'd agree with you," and Rubio hid his smile behind his hand.

Sookie turned to Rubio, "Let me tell you quick before our driver returns. George is doing so well! I see him all the time and he is just the most delightful boy. He's smart and he has a real way about him."

"He tells me your son takes him rock climbing," Rubio didn't look thrilled.

"I hope you don't mind," Sookie sighed. "Rick is a very good climber and he is responsible. They have all the right equipment…"

"I don't mind," Rubio cut her off. "George is grateful for Rick's friendship. It has made a difference for him in school. We were worried about George. As the oldest, this adjustment was hardest for him. He's been in Catholic schools, but he slept at home every night. He had friends. It was not an easy decision. Finding Rick was fortunate."

"I feel the same way," Sookie grinned. "Rick's different," and then Sookie's face dropped. "Fact is, he's getting more different every day. He's drinking blood now."

"That can't be easy," Rubio's eyes became wary. "You were never comfortable with that."

"You mean watching Eric drink from other folks?" Sookie wasn't sure where the bitter remark came from, but she suspected remembering Angie and that night had spurred it. "Sorry," she said. "I did struggle with it, more than I knew at the time. Now, it's different. This is my son. Amy Ludwig said I should think about getting him living among vampires soon."

"He is becoming more vampire?" Rubio asked.

Sookie nodded, "In lots of ways. Sounds like he'll be pretty much be one of you when he's finished." Sookie couldn't help the sigh that escaped her, "Who'd have thought? I thought I had issues when I believed he was a shifter's child. But this? This is a whole new world."

Rubio looked up and then stepped away. "Our driver has returned with your bag," he announced unnecessarily. Rubio gestured, "The car is waiting."

They all stood on the curb and within minutes a black sedan pulled over. A valet jumped out and tossed the key to their driver. Rubio helped Sookie into the backseat and they were pulling away and driving into the city in no time.

"So, as I was saying," Rubio said, "You will be expected to read each of those in the team that accompanies each vampire. They have been instructed to bring every person who can speak to their financial condition. The interviews and audits are expected to be in depth, so there will be no more than two vampires interviewed each evening."

This was the conversation they probably would have had at the airport if there weren't other things to share. Sookie thought about what Rubio was telling her. "It sounds more like an inquisition," she commented.

"The findings are important," Rubio shrugged. "You will be expected to take notes and there will be a hired reporter there to transcribe all conversations. Ted is already at the hotel. His plane arrived earlier." Rubio checked his watch. "Your flight took a little longer than we expected. I will assist you in checking in and we will wait. The first interview starts in an hour. Fortunately, the place we've arranged is only a short distance from the hotel."

"How long do you think this will take?" Sookie asked.

"Hours," Rubio was looking out the window. "The King expects us to be thorough, and Angie will be there to make sure nothing is missed."

"Well, I'm going to need to get something to eat," Sookie snapped. "And it can't be Burger King or anything like that because I'll be sick." Sookie saw the driver's sharp look in the rearview mirror, and the lift of his lip. "I'll ask for a menu when I'm checking in and I can order it right away to take with me," she said quickly, almost in apology. There was a tension that Sookie couldn't miss and she figured it would be best not to be too much trouble to anyone. ' _I can't wait to get home_ ,' she thought.

As soon as she got into her room, she hung up her clothes, washed her face, and changed into a skirt, hose, and some short heels. It always paid to look professional, and she knew Angie would report to Felipe on his team's performance. Angie like to focus on details, like appearances and who smelled like what. It was her way, and it was meant to shake confidence.

Sookie pulled her emergency phone from her carry-on. She turned it on and checked messages. She texted first Lora, and then Rick. Rick texted her back and she smiled as they made a couple quick exchanges. He let her know George's team won at soccer and that George had scored two of the goals. He also let her know that German sucked.

For the first time, her son was struggling a little with a subject. He was only making 'B's in German and it annoyed him. Sookie knew Rick's recall was uncanny and she wondered if perfect memory, a vampire trait, was something he'd develop. The issue wasn't remembering, though. Rick's issue was his accent. He had a hard time placing emphasis in the right place and getting his tongue around the consonants. His teacher advised him to use his language labs, but Rick thought he knew better and his stubbornness was costing him.

Sookie texted, ' _Listen to the tapes!_ ' to which her cheeky son responded with a sick and then a flaming poop emoji. "Suit yourself!" Sookie said out loud, turning off the phone and hiding it in the special pocket she had sewn in her purse.

Dinner was waiting for Sookie at the front desk and so was the driver. "Where's Rubio?" she asked.

"He went home to his family," the driver told her, but the way he said it was not kind. Rubio was married to a human and Sookie could tell that was the issue. As they drove, Sookie pulled out her turkey wrap and took a few bites. There was a cup of coffee and a plastic bowl of fruit salad, but, as Rubio had warned, they were pulling over before Sookie had time to try either.

The driver was at Sookie's door before she reached for the handle. Sookie levered her way out, grabbed her purse, and the bag with her food. She juggled the coffee cup a little and wished the driver would offer to help, but she knew he wouldn't. As they walked into the towering, dark warehouse space, Angie stepped into a pool of light, "Oh, at last. You're here." Angie was dressed all in black leather, the tight fit of her slacks emphasizing how thin she was. Sookie felt like an old, frumpy housefrau beside her, but she figured that was the point.

Sookie walked toward the place where three tables were set up in a roughly U-shape. Ted was already there, picking his nails. His belly was hanging over a tight waistband and Sookie figured he had to be uncomfortable. The accountant nodded to her, and Sookie put on her brightest smile, "Well, hey Ted! It's really nice to see you again." Of course, it wasn't really nice to see Ted, but if they were going to have to spend the next week working together, it didn't pay to be mean. Sookie was introduced to Wendy, the transcriber who would only be with them tonight. Tomorrow her agency would send someone else.

The first vampire was already seated at a table. He was surrounded by accordion files and papers and there was pale man and a darker woman seated beside him. The woman was a clear broadcaster and she was thinking this was the last time she would ever do business with a vampire. She'd make sure her bank never loaned money to any of them again. The man wasn't so clear, but Sookie could feel his fear without trying.

It was a long and grueling interview. Sookie hadn't seen Ted in action before. At first she was impressed by how smart he was but as the evening wore on, she decided the streak of mean Ted used pretty well killed off any admiration she felt. After several hours, the first vampire left and the second vampire was ushered in.

Sookie insisted on taking a break. She finished her meal, even though her coffee was cold. She also asked for a bathroom. It was discovered the only working bathroom in the building was filthy and there was a dead mouse in the corner. "Just go against the building," Angie sneered.

"Well, you can just take me back to the hotel, then," Sookie snarled back. "Your boss wants a good job done and I'm not going to be able to concentrate if I can't get the basic amenities! I need a clean bathroom and I need a jacket. It's freezing in here. I'm not a vampire!"

"As we are all well aware," Angie said in her superior way.

"Well, if you can do better than me, you just be my guest!" and Sookie started heading for the door.

"What she said," Ted said from behind her, and Sookie turned to see the accountant standing up and starting to grab his jacket.

"Me, too," said Wendy, and Angie was clearly struggling with what was shaping into a full-scale mutiny.

"And I'll email Felipe and tell him how you treated us," Sookie added.

Angie signaled the driver, "There's a restaurant down the street," she told him. "Take them there. Buy them coffee." She turned to Sookie, "There are blankets in the trunk of the car. You can bring them in with you." The vampire checked her watch before saying to the driver, "Thirty minutes. No more!"

The driver was good at his job and in less than thirty minutes, they were all back in the warehouse, blankets draped over their laps, and walking through the exhibits brought by the second vampire. Sookie listened carefully to the thoughts of those humans and, in this case, one Were, he brought with him. What she heard would be confirmed over the next night, and the night following that. These vampires told tales of woe. They were discriminated against and set up for failure. They turned to Pamela Ravenscroft as their Sheriff for help, and she did what she could, but what these vampires needed was the influence a King could provide with national bank managers and block grants. Pam was able to get them help with the local Chamber of Commerce, but it wasn't enough.

"I don't know what more Felipe thinks these folks are making out here," Sookie sighed to Ted as they walked toward the car.

"Doesn't matter," Ted shrugged. "We do our job, we turn in our report. In the meantime, we take advantage of what the city has to offer, and as far as I'm concerned, that's Fangtasia!" The accountant turned to the driver, "You know where it is? We want to stop there on the way back to the hotel."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Sookie told him. "For one thing, I think I'm still banned."

"Banned? Really?" and Ted looked a little too happy. "I knew you were a swinger! What did you do? Get caught in the Ladies Room? Get a little too free with the merchandise? Were you a Fangbanger?"

"No," Sookie said shortly. "Nothing like that."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Angie purred from behind them. "Felipe lifted that ban a long time ago. You can go to Fangtasia as much as you like, Miss Stackhouse," and then she laughed in a way that made Sookie want to grab some wood and stake her on the spot.

Sookie found herself ushered through the front door of the club. As members of Felipe de Castro's personal retinue, they weren't expected to pay the cover charges. The vampire at the door bowed briefly and Sookie could feel the eyes of those waiting in line cutting her down. Once they were inside, she couldn't stop glancing toward the booth in the corner, the one that had been Eric's booth. There was a mostly human party sitting there tonight, and Sookie was almost relieved.

There was music playing. Ted steered them to a high-top table, and Sookie carefully positioned herself on the stool. It seemed everywhere she looked, there were memories. "I'm surprised to see you here," a voice said at her elbow, and Sookie almost fell off her stool as she turned rapidly to see Indira standing next to her.

"I'm here on King's business," she stammered.

"Hi," Ted interrupted and bowed his head. He was using his swinger smile and Sookie almost choked.

"Hi, yourself," Indira's voice was dismissive, then she looked at Sookie again, "Why are you here?"

"I know," Sookie nodded. "I told folks there was a ban, but Angie…"

"The King's Second, Angie?" Indira clarified.

"Yes, that Angie," Sookie nodded, "She said the ban was lifted, so here I am."

"Pam is in New Orleans, reporting to Felipe," Indira was looking happier. "She'll be sorry she missed you. She speaks of you."

"Really?" Sookie couldn't help but be touched, then, not sure, she added, "Good things, right?"

"Yes," Indira smiled, "We all miss you." A waitress came by, and Indira said, "Gin and tonic, yes?"

"That would be great," Sookie agreed, but when the drink arrived, she could barely sip it past the lump in her throat.

It was the next evening when Sookie heard about the assassination attempt on Stan Davis. Angie wasn't at the warehouse when they arrived, but their driver told them about what he'd read on one of the blog sites that specialized in vampire news. Sookie was tempted to call Mr. Cataliades, but the more the driver described things, the less worried Sookie became. It was a disgruntled employee according to the news and, knowing Stan, Sookie wasn't surprised.

"He's kind of an asshat," she told Ted as they got ready to sit down for their first interview. "He likes to look like a computer nerd, but he's as smart as they come."

"Vampires can be pretty tricky," Ted nodded. "It's what makes them so successful."

"Except for these guys," and Sookie jerked her chin at the group awaiting their instructions to take seats.

"Yeah," Ted agreed, "That's for sure!"

That night as Sookie got ready for bed, she texted Lora and Rick. It was late, and she wasn't surprised when she didn't hear back. She was an hour behind them, and as late as it was for her, it was even later in Chester.

On a whim, she texted Fran. The witch seemed to be awake late at night a lot, and it wasn't unusual to receive texts or emails from her at odd hours. Sookie texted about where she was and how about an hour ago she'd almost felt like Fran was in the room with her. She couldn't describe it, but she wanted her friend to know how much she missed her. Fran didn't text back. That night, Sookie went to bed thinking about Boston and how much she missed the witch.

The next day, Sookie woke relatively early. It was mid-afternoon and she decided to take a walk around Shreveport. She hadn't spent a lot of time here when she lived in Bon Temps, but it wasn't unfamiliar either. There were stores she recognized and others that had been something else before she left. As she walked the streets, she found herself wondering how things were doing in Bon Temps. She thought about Jason, whom she hadn't spoken with in close to ten years. She thought about Tara and she wondered if Sam Merlotte married the Were who came after she left. She thought about her house, sitting on Hummingbird Lane, empty, but with a lock that still would turn to her key and she wondered, briefly, about the identity of who owned it now. Sookie was pretty sure it was her Fae relatives, but she didn't really know.

That evening, the atmosphere in the warehouse was tense. It wasn't the interviews, although the news was no better with these vampires than it had been with the ones from the nights before. No, the issue was Angie and the driver. They seemed angry about something, and their hostility rubbed off on everyone.

Sookie was happy to get back to the hotel. She stripped off her clothes and started running a bath. She turned on her phone and saw first Lora's text, and then Rick's.

Lora's message told her about Fran. Her friend was in the hospital. A stroke, the message said. Sookie didn't think about the time. She pushed the buttons and called Lora. Once Lora assured her that Fran was stable, if still unconscious, Sookie called Rick. He was shaken, she could tell. They talked about how strong Fran was and Sookie told him a dozen times she was sorry to be so far away. She got him to tell her a little about school, and she told him how proud she was of him. "I love you, Kiddo," she said, "I love you!" until he told her to cut it out.

Sookie sat on the edge of the bed, all thoughts of the bath forgotten. She looked at the phone she was holding between her hands and thought about her tall, growing son.

"Our lives would have been different if I'd stayed here," she said out loud. She thought about Bon Temps and she thought about Rick, and what was likely to come as he changed. They would need to leave Chester, but where would be the safe place for him? Some part of her wanted him to be with Eric, though she didn't see how that could happen. Eric was in Oklahoma with Freyda. She couldn't trust him to do the right thing if it meant violating some vampire rule.

She remembered that night Freyda had come to her house on Hummingbird Lane. It had been raining, and the Oklahoma Queen had run through the night, determined to see the woman who all the fuss was about. Sookie remembered how angry Freyda became. Sookie rescinded the Queen's invitation, and that saved Sookie's life. ' _I wonder if Rick can rescind invitations?_ ' Sookie wondered and she had a sick feeling that her son would become too vampire to have that defense in his tool box.

The only place she could think to bring him was here, to Louisiana, but this wasn't exactly welcoming or even familiar ground anymore. It was helpful that Indira was friendly and it sounded like Pam might still be her friend, but Sookie knew it wasn't really what Rick needed or what she wanted. She would become like one of those vampires she spoke with; a vassal of Felipe de Castro, owing money with nothing to show for it. It was a depressing thought.

It was the fourth night, and Sookie was surprised to see Rubio Hermosa at the warehouse. Angie was, too, and she asked in a not nice way why the vampire was there. "I promised Ms Stackhouse I would take her to dinner," he replied, and his voice purred around the words.

"Cheating on your human with another human?" Angie laughed cruelly.

"I would prefer you didn't tell," Rubio said and he sounded serious. It was the first Sookie had heard of it, but she figured he was trying to be tricky, so she smiled and shrugged like she and Rubio had some big secret, which, apparently, they did.

"Well, I can't have you distracting her until her work here is done," Angie was not pleasant. "I have your number. I will call you when we are finished. You can do what you wish with her then." Rubio offered to stay out of the way, but Angie snarled and sent him on his way. "You are trouble, Miss Stackhouse," she said meanly, "and I'm sure the King will be interested."

It was odd, but Sookie figured that whatever Rubio had to tell her was important. She worried that it might be bad news from home and Sookie found herself glancing toward the door as the evening began.

They were a couple hours into the first interview when there was a loud noise outside. Angie got up and stalked to the door to investigate, the driver close behind her. Ted shrugged, and he and Sookie turned back to questioning. The transcriber tonight was an older woman, Fern. Her gray hair was crispy curled and the faint smell of cigarettes floated from her sweater.

The vampire tonight was running a dry cleaner and doing reasonably well, though not making a lot of money. He brought his accountant and a Were who was his business partner. The vampire stopped speaking and turned to the door. He stood up suddenly and said, "Is there another door?"

Sookie found herself focusing on the sounds outside, and she realized she was hearing fighting. There was the clang of steel, and suddenly she was in a hospital room staring at a blocked door, knowing there were fairies on their way to kill her. Sookie's fingers felt numb as she grabbed her purse and pulled her phone from its place in the lining. She pushed the power button and prayed that trouble stayed outside until the screen was ready.

The Were howled and ran toward the back wall where it was dark, "The windows are boarded!" he yelled. The vampire ran toward him and they were working on pulling boards away. Their human was gibbering and Fern kept wheezing, "Oh my God, Oh my God!" The phone was ready and Sookie texted her son. She told him she loved him. She told him he made her proud. She instructed him to find his Father. ' _I trust you, Eric_ ,' she thought, and it made her laugh at herself to think it took facing death to realize the truth. She did trust Eric and always had.

Two vampires rushed in through the main door. They carried swords and they were both bloody. Fern made an 'eep' noise and just as quickly, her gray-haired head was rolling across the floor.

"You!" one of the vampires pointed at the vampire Ted and Sookie had been interviewing, "Get out!" and they pointed at the door. The vampire herded both his accountant and the Were with him toward the exit, leaving Sookie and Ted sitting rooted to their seats.

Sookie didn't recognize either of the vampires stalking toward them. "We work for Felipe de Castro," Ted proclaimed.

"Exactly," one of the vampires hissed, and Sookie found her arm in a grip that was sure to leave bruises. She was forced to her knees beside Ted. She found she couldn't look away as the sword rushed past her face, lifting Ted's head from his shoulders as easily as slicing the top from a watermelon. Ted's look of surprise was in place as his head rolled past her. 

Sookie closed her eyes. "Rick," she whispered, and then "Eric," but instead of the feel of a blade, she felt the bang of an impact to the side of her head. The last thing she remembered was falling forward toward the floor.


	16. Chapter 16 - River Flows

**Chapter 16 – River Flows**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Whoa!" Peter, one of Sarah's twin sons, stood up from the kitchen table as Rick flew down the back staircase. He stepped in front of Rick, bodily blocking the boy's head-long rush toward the dining room. Rick came up short and lifted his hand to hide his mouth, but Peter had already seen enough. Sarah's son stepped forward and pulled the Rick's hand away. "Wow, Chub!" he whistled softly, "Are those real?"

Peter and his brother, Seth, had known Rick since the day he arrived in Chester with his mother. It was the twins who nicknamed Rick 'Chub,' because as a baby Rick had been so big. No one really called Rick that name anymore, but just hearing it made Rick feel better somehow. Of everyone he knew, Seth and Peter were as close to brothers as Rick had. As soon as he was able to toddle after them, Rick had made a habit of haunting the twins' footsteps. He ran after them into the woods, crying out for them to wait up. When the twins got older, Rick spied on them, making noise and interrupting their first dates.

Most of that changed when the twins transferred to Morris for high school. Seth was the athletic one and his crowd didn't have much tolerance for a persistent, pesky adolescent. It was Peter who remained Rick's more regular companion. Part of the reason they remained as close as they did was their mutual love of music.

Both Peter and Rick had an almost uncanny natural musical ability. They could coax tunes from any number of instruments, most without needing any instruction on how to play. When you listened to them, it was clear that Rick was the more technical musician. Sookie's son was precise and the music he preferred had clean, logical progressions. Peter's style was something else; a cross between bluegrass, fusion, and jazz.

In the years before the twins left for college, Rick spent hours either playing with Peter or listening to Peter play with others. When Peter and Seth did leave, Rick told his mother that Peter's absence was a gaping hole in the town bands and it made Rick sad.

That had been two years ago.

Seth traveled to New York City for college and majored in architecture. His mother told Sookie that she figured that child was lost to them forever. Seth assimilated into city life as if he'd been born to it. Although only a sophomore, he was already interning for an architectural design firm. Just getting him to agree to come back to Chester for holidays was a chore. ' _Captured by the Big City_ ,' Sarah sighed.

Peter went a different route. Peter was accepted to a prestigious school in Boston on full scholarship, but after a year and a half, he dropped out. The way he explained it to Rick over hand-rolled cigarettes and home-brewed ale was that the instruction on musical composition and teaching techniques was too confining. Peter had thrown up his hands in frustration as teacher after teacher tried to push him to capture what he heard in his head on to neatly drawn bar scales. What flowed from Peter's quick mind was something so organic that even he himself couldn't remember or repeat it once it was done. After less than one semester, Peter decided to shift his major from attending school to majoring in the city's musical scene. He had no problem finding venues that welcomed his sitting in to standing gigs or playing solo. While it fed his soul, the scholarship wasn't so forgiving of dropped classes and failing grades. The grant was revoked, and Peter returned to where he told everyone he belonged.

When his Mother's friends asked, he explained he was more interested in living a simple life than getting a piece of paper to prove something he already knew: he could make music. Peter was perfectly happy living in Chester, leading the town Morris line and playing for the weekly dances in the basement of the town hall. Peter moved into the space above his Mother's garage and he once more became part of Rick's circle.

It wasn't like before, though. There remained a distance between the musician and Rick. Part of the distance was the age difference. Rick was more his own person now and wasn't so inclined to follow Peter in that blind fanboy way he once had. The other factor was George Hermosa.

George had become Rick's best friend, united by age, classroom, and interests. The time they spent rock climbing together had built a trust between the two of them that delegated Peter to be a less influential role in Rick's life.

For the most part, that suited both Rick and Peter fine. One of the changes college did make was Peter's new tendency to silence. It was as if Peter had decided that words were worth more than money, he gave them out so sparingly. This new habit did have the effect of making people listen harder when the twin did talk, but it made reforming the close relationship that had once existed between Rick and Peter more difficult.

Still, there was the trust that came from having known each other almost all their lives. Rick knew that Peter would stand with him no matter what, and Sarah's son now proved it once again.

Peter squinted and grabbing Rick's chin, moved the younger boy's head first to one side, and then the other. Peter leaned in, getting closer, his eyes at fang level. After a moment, he seemed to have made up his mind about something because he nodded and straightened up. "I always knew you were different," he said. The twin glanced over his shoulder toward the dining room door. "There's still a couple of those guests hanging out, jawing your Aunt Lora's ear off. They're out-towners and you know you can't go out there looking like that!" Peter waved toward Rick's mouth, "Sporting those will sure get peoples' jaws moving around here. Folks would probably call a town hall just to talk about what to do about you." Peter didn't say it as if he was scared or angry. He was smiling as if Rick's having fangs was some fine joke and his reaction helped Rick to calm down.

Rick lifted the cell phone that was grasped in his hand. "I think something's happened to my Mom," he lisped around his teeth.

Rick dropped the phone in his friend's hand. Peter took it and pushing buttons, read the text, and ran his thumb over the screen once. Rick could tell he was thinking and he slipped into his head almost by instinct. What Rick found was that he couldn't really read Peter. His friend's thoughts seemed to jump around and there was music playing in the background of his brain in a way that made hearing what he was thinking almost impossible.

Peter looked up after a bit, "Do you know where your Mom is, Chub?"

Rick nodded, "Louisiana. I think she's with Mr. Hermosa, George's Dad."

"Come on, then," Peter turned him back toward the stairs, "Let's get upstairs and make some phone calls. Someone will know something. We should start with George. If there's one thing I know about boarding school parents, there's always an emergency line. He'll be able to get through."

As they sat down and Rick thumbed down his list of contacts, he asked, "What if George doesn't know anything?"

"Then who's next on the list? I would have said to call your Aunt Fran, but Mom told me how things are. I'm real sorry." Rick looked away, his chest aching as he thought about his Aunt so far away. Rick's fingers flew, texting George, and asking him to call.

As they waited for George, Rick said, "I guess the next one would be Uncle Desmond. I'm not sure if he'll be able to help, but he made a lot of the arrangements for this job, so he might know something." The text came back telling them George was on the other line and would call back in a minute.

Peter held out his hand and Rick handed the phone over again. Peter was looking at the message Rick got from his Mother, "Go to your Father?" he asked. "You know who that is?"

"Yeah," Rick sighed. "Yeah, I do." Rick turned to the computer and pulled up his search engine. He typed in 'Eric Northman image' and turned the screen toward Peter. "That's him. There isn't a lot on the Internet about him, but George says that's how they like it, vampires, I mean. They like to keep things on the down low."

"So, if your Mom is in Louisiana, do you know where he is?" Peter asked, nodding toward the screen.

"Oklahoma, I think," Rick answered. "What I found says he's got businesses there, but it's not real specific about where he lives or anything. There's a couple pictures of him with his new wife, but I can't even find her name. It's like they barely exist."

"Make it hard to drop in on him, then," Peter said. Rick had the impression he was thinking, but Peter was silent so often now, it was hard to know.

After a bit, Rick said, "You handled the vampire thing pretty well."

"Not the first time I've seen fangs," Peter shrugged. "Boston had a fair number. Vampires really like music and I got to know a few. Not bad people and when they bite you…" and there was something about how Peter's eyes darkened that let Rick know that the urges he was feeling were probably felt by other people, too. Peter seemed to realize where the conversation was heading and he gave Rick a direct look, "Let's just say it doesn't hurt, Chub. If you find you want to bite someone," and he pointed at Rick's mouth, "don't worry. It's not a bad thing."

"Thanks," Rick stammered, and he was saved from having to say anything more when the phone started ringing. "George," Rick answered, "Do you know where your Dad is?"

"How did you know?" George said. "I just got off the phone with my Mom. She's freaked out, and what's really scary is she's trying to hide it."

"I'm putting you on speaker phone," Rick interrupted. "Peter's here. He's going to help."

Rick pushed the button and George said, "She kept telling me nothing's wrong, but I have to stay put and watch out for Maddie and Frank. Then she said she's going to stay with Gran and Pop-pop for a while in Mississippi. I asked if they were breaking up and she got all emotional. Not mad emotional. She was scared. I could tell."

"I got a text from my Mom. It sounded like she was saying…" and Rick's chest constricted. His eyes hurt. He couldn't say the words.

"George, have you tried to call your Dad?" Peter asked.

"No, not yet. I'll try right now and call you back," and the line disconnected.

"You said your Uncle Desmond might know something?" Peter prompted Rick. "You have his number?"

"Not on the phone," Rick said. "But my Mom has a number in her dresser drawer."

"Why don't you go get it?" Peter prompted. "I'll stay here and answer if George calls back."

It didn't take long to run downstairs and then back up, but by the time Rick returned, George was back on the line. "There's no answer from George's Dad," Peter told Rick.

"That's not like him, either," George confirmed. "Even when he's in the middle of something, he always picks up just to tell me he'll call back."

"We need to go down there," Rick said.

"What? Louisiana?" George asked. "I don't even know where he'd be. He travels all over the state. He could be anywhere."

"Well, isn't there some place where they all report in to? My Mom said they were both working for some King. If there's a King, there's got to be a headquarters, right?"

Rick was spit-balling, but then George said, "You mean the Palace in New Orleans?"

Peter snort-laughed and Rick said, "Palace? Are you freaking kidding me?"

"No," George huffed, "They have one. Dad had to go there to report from time to time. Sometimes he'd take Mom and they'd make a weekend out of it."

"Look, George," Peter spoke up, "It's not late. You spend time here and it sounds like you two need to do some more talking. Grab an overnight bag and tell your house proctor that I'm coming over to get you. And do me a favor. Pack your school uniform."

"What are you thinking?" Rick asked.

"Maybe nothing," Peter told Rick, "but you never know. But while I'm gone, call your Uncle Desmond. See if he knows anything."

Once Peter left, Rick sat on the bed and stared at the formal business card. There was a handwritten number on the back and that was the one he called. The number rang and rang. Rick figured that voice mail would pick up soon, but it didn't. He just about gave up when a strained voice said, "Who is this?"

"Uncle Desmond?" Rick asked. "Is that you?"

"Rick!" and it was Uncle Desmond. It didn't sound like him. He was almost hissing and his voice was tight. "How did you get this number?"

"From my Mother's bedroom," Rick answered, "Uncle Desmond, I think my Mom's in trouble!"

"Why would you say that?" the attorney asked, but the way he said it didn't sound as if he was ready to settle back for a chat. He sounded stressed, so Rick read him the text message.

"Should I go to Oklahoma to find my Father?" Rick asked.

"Don't go there!" Mr. Cataliades snapped, and then he moderated his tone, "There's no need to go to Oklahoma. Your Father isn't there anymore."

"Then where is he?" Rick asked.

"He's here," the attorney answered, "But, Rick, I don't' think it's a good idea to come here either. There's been some trouble. I have a few things I have to sort out, but as soon as I convince people here whose side I'm on, I will find out what happened to your Mother." There was a growl on the phone and it sounded like a scuffle of some kind. "I will call you back," Mr. Cataliades said quickly and the connection was gone.

Peter and George were walking up the stairs and Rick told them what Uncle Desmond said. "I knew it!" George exclaimed. "My Mom sounded scared."

"You think your Uncle Desmond is going to be able to find your Mom?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," Rick was starting to feel overwhelmed. "He sounded like he was in trouble, too."

"Trouble for vampires usually means final death," George added, and both Rick and Peter turned to stare at him. "I'm serious!" George protested. "I know my Dad was involved in at least one vampire killing. They don't see it the same way we do. Maybe it's because they're already dead, I don't know!"

"Well, I'm not dead and I'm a vampire!" Rick said.

"Not really," Peter said in a way that could have been them discussing the cost of coffee. When Rick looked as if he'd protest, Peter held up his hand. "I don't know what you are," he told Rick, "but you aren't the usual, run of the mill vampire."

Rick thought for a minute, "There's a Supe doctor in Boston who looked at me. She called me a Damphir." George's head fell forward as his fingers flew over his phone.

"Wow!" he said after a minute. "That makes you half vampire."

"See?" Peter nodded, "Like I said. But I guess the question you boys have to answer is what you want to do. You can sit here and wait, or you can figure out what you can do to find out about your parents."

"You have a plan?" Rick asked.

"From what I've seen, the two of you have balls of steel. Wouldn't catch me dangling from ropes up those rock faces. And you team pretty well." He turned to George, "You think those vampires in the Palace would know where your Father is?"

George nodded, "Vampires are real tight. They watch out for one another and they seem to know each other's business. If my Dad is in trouble, they'll know."

"And you're sure your Mom is with George's Dad?" Peter asked Rick.

Rick looked at George, who nodded. "Yeah, they're both working for the same guy and they were supposed to be together on this job."

"Then I think you should go down to New Orleans and ask for help at that Palace," Peter shrugged.

"Whoa!" George said, "Just like that? I mean, how would we even get down there?"

"Train," Peter shrugged again. "Planes are faster, but there'd be a lot of questions with you two riding alone. Chances are there'd be some connecting flight and there'd be more questions. Buses would be the same thing. They'd expect someone older to be traveling with you. But trains? Once we get you tickets, no one would question you, and we know the people at the station. You boys wear your school uniforms and I give you a cover story? You'd be in New Orleans in two days."

"I don't know…" George was saying.

"You think it's possible?" Rick asked.

"I know it is, Chub. Then all you have to do is figure out where this Palace place is, and you can walk in and ask. Once you're there, they can't turn you away." He looked at George, "And if they're as clannish as you say, all you need to do is declare yourself as your Father's son and they'd probably be duty-bound to help you."

"They are pretty much all about honor and duty," George was starting to warm up to the idea. George's fingers started moving again, "I'm not coming up with anything about vampire palace in New Orleans. It's a big city. How would we find it?"

"I can probably help there," Rick said. "I can't explain it, but I kind of know where vampires are. It's like seeing them in my head. If we get down there, I can just scan around for where the most vampires are located, and chances are that would be the Palace, right?"

Rick and George stared at each other for a long moment. "Someone will notice we're missing," he said.

"Not right away," Peter shrugged. He stepped over to Rick's laptop and started pulling up train schedules. "If I get you through the station here by seven tomorrow morning, you'll be in the city and on the next train to New Orleans. I can get you guys a sleeper cabin. Tomorrow is Wednesday. That means Stu is at the station. He sees you school kids going through the station all the time. I know they bend the rules for the rich boarding kids. Shouldn't be any problem at all to get you two on board."

George took a deep breath, "Are we doing this?" he asked.

"You bet!" Rick said. "Let's go down there and figure out what the hell's going on!"

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Eric Northman stood at the large, light-tight window that looked out across the Canal. He held his arm away from him, allowing the slowly, seeping blood to drip into the wastebasket. It was over. The fight was won.

De Castro had proven tougher to defeat than anyone anticipated, but Eric wasn't surprised. He'd suspected the foolish trappings the Nevada King draped around himself were meant to disguise his true self. Felipe had moved with surprising speed, his rapier dancing so quickly it was almost impossible to follow its progress with the eye. Eric had to watch the fighter instead, anticipating attacks from his enemy's movements. It was a strategy that took some time to settle into and during those first minutes, Eric took damage.

His arm was opened from his shoulder to his elbow. At one point, De Castro knocked him down and fastened his fangs in Eric's neck, ripping and tearing. The King scraped furrows of skin from Eric's face with his fingernails, trying to gouge out the Viking's eye. Eric endured. It was a level of fighting and fury that he was familiar with; something he had experienced in his past.

When the tides turned, it was decisive. Eric swept his heavy sword down, separating the King's arm from his body close to his shoulder, and then swept horizontally, severing the King's body neatly in half. De Castro's lips were still moving when his body turned to dust.

Around him, the sounds of battle continued. Even now, almost an hour later, Eric could hear the clang of metal on metal and the occasional, shrill battle cry. Soon, those sounds would fade, replaced by the cries and screams of the defeated. Eric promised no mercy for two nights. For two nights, revenge and retribution would reign, and near dawn on the rising of the third day, Eric would call an end and his victory would be complete.

It was their way. It was how vampires had conducted their affairs for centuries, but Eric found he was troubled. He glanced at the wound on his arm. It still was not fully healed. He would need donors.

"Have you called Russell yet?" Pam asked from the door.

"No," Eric replied. "Not yet." His daughter walked up beside him and looked at his arm. In an instant, she was gone, and after a time, she returned with two women. They were not unattractive, but their fear reduced their appeal. "Find me Royalty," he told her.

"Don't be stupid!" Pam snapped, and she cruelly grabbed first one and then the other, glamouring them into compliance.

Now, the women turned back to Eric, their faces dreamy, and they wrapped their arms around him, caressing. It didn't seem right to him, not best, but Eric lowered his head to first one and then the other, drinking from their necks. He became hard. It was inevitable, and the women stroked him. "Enough!" Eric growled and pushed them away. "Take them someplace safe and heal them, Pam," he ordered. Seeing his daughter's worried expression, he modulated his voice, "All's well! I thank you for the gift of blood. It helped. I have much to consider. When you have taken care of yourself and things are more settled, return here. We should talk."

Pam nodded eagerly, and without another word, took the arms of the glamoured donors and left.

Eric knew Pam didn't understand his reaction. She had been living here, first under Sophie-Ann, then under Felipe de Castro. They were rulers who lived in the old way, where vampires ruled and everyone else was secondary to their needs. Eric realized his attitudes in that regard had changed.

Sookie Stackhouse kick-started his journey. She insisted that he see other races as having value. It was a notion he already held, but it was his interaction with her that accelerated that learning. He found his relationships with Weres improved and he found he enjoyed interacting with humans. Even the Fae had their uses, and although he didn't trust them, he was one of the few vampires whom Sookie's Great-Grandfather, Niall Brigant, had visited and called friend when the Fae Ruler was still in this world.

Living in Oklahoma took him even further down the road. Freyda was young enough that some of the crueler aspects of vampire life had never touched her. She had never experienced the arrogance that allowed vampires to wipe out whole villages, or enthrall dozens of children and young people as blood slaves. Her reality was one of skillful détente, and then mainstreaming. She had good relations and as a result, Eric didn't see the usual prejudice and fear that humans felt in interacting with vampires when he lived in her kingdom. She had been on the throne long enough that those who did remember her predecessor had died, and Freyda carefully fostered the idea that the old ways were more Hollywood than reality.

There was another scream, someone meeting their end. Eric knew he wanted the life here that he had lived in Oklahoma. He wanted this place to become an enlightened kingdom where things were civilized and all species felt safe interacting with each other. Eric knew that somehow that would lead to prosperity for all of them, but for now, he felt his age, and he felt the weight of every cruel act he had ever committed, both on his own and at the bidding of his Maker. The ability to make something shining rise from the blood that was on the floors and walls of this Palace seemed too much a dream tonight, one that was unlikely to ever be reality.

And then Eric thought of Sookie. He remembered her smile in Denver. He remembered her telling him she loved him. "Where are you, Lover?" he asked out loud. Eric shook his head; it was foolish thinking about it. Sookie Stackhouse was somewhere far away, 'North,' Karin told him. She was probably married. She had a child. She had a life that didn't include the bloodshed and violence that surrounded him now, and Eric knew he loved her too dearly to ever ask her to put aside her normal life and come back to this.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Sookie opened her eyes. It was dark, but she could tell she was in a car and it was moving. Her head hurt. "You're awake?" It was Rubio's voice, and Sookie tried to push herself up. She was lying on the backseat of a car and she could smell that someone had been sick. She thought it might have been her.

"What happened?" she slurred.

"I got you out of there," Rubio told her. "I'm going to pull over in a minute. We can try to get you cleaned up."

It hurt to sit up. There was a coat on the floor of the car in front of where she'd been lying and there was vomit on it. There was some on the car seat, too, and Sookie could still taste the bile. "Do you have some water?" she asked.

Rubio walked to the trunk of the car while Sookie gingerly picked up the coat and threw it into the bushes. Rubio returned with two bottles of water and another of True Blood. He leaned heavily against the car and when Sookie struggled with the cap on the water bottle, he set his bottle of blood on the trunk and twisted it off for her. Sookie's eyes were adjusting and she could see all wasn't well with Rubio.

"You're hurt," she said.

"Angie was determined. The wounds are sealed, but I am weakened." He finished the bottle and threw it into the bushes as well.

"You need blood," Sookie told him. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know," he told her, then shrugged. "The vampires who came for you were no one I know. Indira knew my secret…"

"That you were a spy for someone else?" Sookie guessed.

She was rewarded with the vampire's quick grin, "For your vampire, to be specific," he told her. "I've been Eric Northman's since the day I met him. That didn't change."

"What happened?" Sookie asked.

"Haven't you guessed?" Rubio looked out into the darkness of the woods surrounding them. "It was a takeover."

"Who?" Sookie gasped.

"Eric Northman!" Rubio was smiling again. "He came into the state yesterday. I'm assuming things are going well, but until everything's settled and some kind of cease fire is declared, I'm a target, just like you."

"Because we're Felipe's people," Sookie nodded. She looked at Rubio, "What about Lily?"

"Indira has her," Rubio replied. "She's escorting her to Lily's parents in Mississippi. Indira's going to have to lie low, too, until everything gets sorted out. Pam's already in New Orleans." He glanced up at the sky, "In the meantime, we need to find a place to hide out."

Sookie remembered the conversation she'd had with Mr. Cataliades before she left for this trip. "How far are we from Bon Temps? I'm pretty sure my old house is open and Desmond told me there are wards and other protections in place there."

"Do you still own it?" Rubio asked.

"No," Sookie shook her head, "but Desmond said my key will still work. He was very sure."

"Interesting," Rubio's eyes narrowed, and Sookie could tell he was in some pain. "I don't think we're far. Do you remember the way?"

"I would if I knew where we were," Sookie grinned. "Rubio, I can see you're hurting. Why don't you take some of my blood? It will be…"

"No!" Rubio shook his head. "No, thank you. I'll survive. It's…well, I promised Lily I wouldn't feed from anyone but her. It's a vow I've kept and I'd like to keep doing it."

"I understand," Sookie laid her hand on the vampire's arm. "You're lucky to have someone in your life you feel that strongly about."

"I am lucky in many ways," Rubio told her. "So are you."

They got into the car and Sookie looked around for her purse. "I guess my purse didn't get picked up," she sighed.

Rubio looked at her, then chuckled, "No, I have to say that in the rush to save our lives, I did forget your bag."

"No big thing," Sookie chuckled in return. "Do you have your phone? I should text Rick and let him know I'm okay." Rubio pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it over. Sookie glanced down and said, "I think your battery is dead."

Rubio took the phone back and pushed the power button a couple times. The first time he got a low power message and the second there was no message at all. "Where's the charger?" Sookie asked.

"I lost it," Rubio sighed.

"Well, maybe we can find a store between here and Bon Temps that sells chargers. Let's get somewhere safe and come up with a plan." Sookie's head was throbbing, but she figured Rubio had problems of his own. "You sure you don't want me to drive?" she asked.

"I'm stronger than I look," he told her, but Sookie noticed he drove slower than usual.

Once they reached the highway, Sookie was able to direct them. It took another twenty minutes to reach Bon Temps, The Kwickie-Mart that used to be open along the way was boarded up and there were no other stores open. Sookie wasn't sure how late it was, but she was pretty sure dawn was coming. As they pulled up the driveway, Sookie wondered if she'd be able to invite Rubio inside, or if he'd be stuck digging into the ground somewhere until sunset tomorrow. Rubio must have been wondering the same thing, because he lingered near the car when she went up on the porch.

Mr. Cataliades had been right. Her old key fit in the deadbolt and the door swung open. Sookie automatically reached into the house to turn on the light switch and the outside lights blazed to life. "Well, come on in, Rubio," she said. Rubio didn't look too confident as he started up the stairs, but to the amazement of both of them, he was able to walk right into the house. "I wonder what that means?" Sookie asked.

"It means either you still own the house, or the owner is a vampire," Rubio replied.

All the furniture was still in place, and the hiding hole that Eric had enlarged was still there, too. Rubio laughed when he saw it. What wasn't so funny was that there was no food and no phone charger. Sookie wondered if Merlotte's was still open, and then, just as quickly dismissed the idea.

"We could ask Bill Compton for help," Rubio suggested. "He still lives here. He would have a phone charger and blood. He probably won't have food…"

"I can survive until morning," Sookie scoffed. "Do you think he'd help us?"

"I can't think why he wouldn't," Rubio shrugged.

"Rick must be out of his mind, worrying," Sookie couldn't think about what her son must be thinking and she wondered if he was already coming up with some crazy scheme.

"I could drive over and come back," Rubio offered.

"I'd better come, too," Sookie replied. "Like you said, folks around here might still think you're working for Felipe. Bill was never a fan. If he sees me, he'll hesitate long enough to let us talk."

Sookie decided to leave the porch light on, but she left the door unlocked before they walked back to the car. It wasn't a long drive and Sookie was relieved to see lights on at Bill's house. Over the years Bill had made improvements. The paint was fresh and although it still retained the look of an older, antique house, it didn't look run down in any way. The lawn was neatly clipped and there were flower pots swaying between the columns.

Together, Rubio and Sookie walked up on the porch and Sookie knocked on the door. It opened so swiftly, Sookie wondered if Bill had been watching them this whole time. "Sookie!" Bill hissed. "You're here!"

"Can we come in?" Sookie asked. "I have a favor to ask you and I don't want to do it standing outside."

Bill stepped back, allowing them both to walk past him. Sookie saw that the inside of the house had been renovated, too. It was a little too fancy for her taste, but she figured Bill might have hired someone. "I have been dreaming about you coming here," Bill was intently watching Sookie, "Ever since I saw you at the Summit. I am so glad you have returned."

"I haven't exactly returned," Sookie was starting to get a little uncomfortable with the way Bill was looking at her, his eyes fixed and his fangs just behind his lip. "You may have heard there was a takeover…"

"No!" Bill exclaimed. "No, I haven't. Who won?"

"We don't know," Rubio replied. "We need to get in touch with our families. Do you have a phone charger I can borrow?" and he held up his dead phone.

"Of course," Bill nodded, "Come this way," and he gestured to Rubio to precede him into an office that was just to the side of the front hall. "It's over there on the desk," Bill said. As Rubio leaned over to pick it up, Bill struck him with some kind of stick he'd been holding, driving it deep into Rubio's back.

Sookie screamed and turned to run to the front door, but she didn't even get the knob turned before Bill was on her. "Don't worry, Sweetheart," he whispered as he crushed her wrist. Sookie heard a bone snap and then the pain started to blossom up her arm. "Don't worry," he repeated. "I'm going to fix everything now and you don't ever need to worry about being taken from me again."


	17. Chapter 17 - Between Thee and Me

**Chapter 17- Between Thee and Me**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Riding trains was different than Rick thought it would be. Initially, there was the adrenaline of getting them situated with all the right passes and paperwork. Peter showed up outside the B&B at six in the morning, the way he'd promised, and George and Rick jumped in the running car, each dressed in their school uniforms. The cover story was easy. They were headed to New Orleans where George's mother was waiting to take them on an impromptu Caribbean cruise. Peter pretended to be their house proctor/teacher. He wore a tweed jacket with a tie over a denim shirt, his long hair tied back.

It was a feature of being a student at schools like those in Chester. You were a boarder. It was assumed you were more self-sufficient. It was assumed your parents expected you to be more independent. While other parents hovered around their children, stunting their initiative under the guise of protecting them, the students of Chester were expected to act as adults, and the successful ones did.

As Peter predicted, the stationmaster barely rolled his eyes before giving their documentation a cursory glance and then moving through the stamping and issuing of tickets. Since neither were technically thirteen, they should have been traveling with a companion, but even that was treated with a shrug. The boys were tall and they were wearing uniforms. It was unlikely they would be mistaken for runaways. "Stay in your sleeper cabin," Peter cautioned them. "If you don't call attention to yourselves, no one is going to give you a hard time. Pretend you're doing school work or play games. There will be electrical outlets."

"Thanks, Peter," Rick was having a hard time holding back his emotions and it was making his mouth feel heavy.

"No big thing, Chub," Peter smacked him on the arm. "Here. Use this to keep your head straight," and he handed Rick a penny whistle.

"You're not playing that in the cabin," George warned.

"You really are a music hater!" Rick teased. It was enough and the boys took their overnight bags and got on the train that would take them to New York where they would catch the bigger train that would take them from there.

"We should buy a couple things when we get to New York," George was making a list as they passed the small towns that were becoming progressively larger. "Pens, paper. Maybe a book or two. Snacks! We're going to be on the train for over thirty hours. That's provided we don't have delays."

"What time does that put us in New Orleans?" Rick asked.

George closed his eyes for a minute, making quick calculations in his head. "About three or four in the afternoon," he nodded.

Rick pulled out his phone and scanned, then said, "Two hours before sunset."

"So, we'll have to hang out for a little while before they wake up." They both knew 'they' was code for vampires. George was starting to look nervous. "My Mom is going to flip out," he said.

"Peter's going to tell Aunt Lora and the school he took us rock climbing. Everyone knows it's been stressful because of my Aunt Fran and the weather is supposed to be perfect. It gives us a good day or two before folks really start to look for us. By then? We'll be in Louisiana and calling your Mom, so mystery solved."

"Did you do this to your Mom, too?" George asked. He looked at Rick in a way that wasn't exactly an accusation. "It's kind of mean. I'm sure she worried when you just took off. She was probably wondering every minute if you were hurt."

"Don't wuss out on me," Rick protested. "You know this is the right thing. I can't just sit up there in Chester on my ass and wait for things to maybe work out. My Mom needs me. I can tell! I'm not just some kid that can't do anything." Rick looked out the window, "Besides, if I don't go look for her, who will?"

George nodded, "Yeah," he said, a new resolve in his voice, "My Dad, too. Although he does have the vampires on his side." When Rick looked at him, George said, "I'm really hoping when we get down there my Dad is already at the Palace and pissed as shit at me. I hope he rips me a new one."

"Really?" Rick asked.

"Really," George nodded, "Because that will mean he's not dead."

Rick could tell that George was not making things up. There was something so grounded in how George thought about the world of his Father and his family, that it gave Rick pause. His Mother told him the world of Supes was dangerous. She warned him that vampires would be tempted to take him, maybe kill him, but it was his friend's certainty that started to make it all real.

Their train pulled into Penn Station, and they walked into the terminal. The board showed they had only thirty minutes until their next train left. Their first stop was the restrooms. As George went into a stall, Rick caught the thoughts of an older man wearing a suit. He was thinking that George with his dark hair and eyes would be an easy mark that he could frighten. There was something sexual in how the man started to visualize the encounter, and, without thinking, Rick stepped in front of him, bringing him up short. He dropped his fangs and hissed, "If you don't leave, I'll rip your junk right off!" The man paled, then turned, and walked out of the bathroom, pushing others out of his way. When George came out the stall, Rick asked him to guard the door. "Maybe these uniforms weren't such a good idea," he told his friend.

They were a good idea, though. The lady at the news shop hustled through their order and the conductor on the train took special care of them, making sure they found their compartment. "You won't have to change trains," he informed them. "You guys are all set in here until you get to New Orleans. There's Wi-Fi, and the club car is two down. The dining car opens for set hours," and he handed them a card that had all the hours and a menu printed on it.

"He thinks we're like Harry Potter," Rick confirmed after the conductor left. "He really was thinking about Gryffindor and Slytherin."

They got familiar with how the beds pulled down. There was a toilet and wash basin in their room, offering no privacy at all, but they just shrugged. Rock climbing and camping out in the woods had pretty much cured them of any modesty around each other. In no time, they were hooked into the train's network. Rick cruised YouTube videos and George used his Netflix account to download Starship Troopers. They popped their first can of Pringles, changed into jeans, and kicked back.

"How long do you think it'll take for the alarm to go up?" George asked after an hour.

"Depends on how good Peter lies," Rick replied. "Probably not until sometime tomorrow."

Hours passed. They found the dining car, then retreated to the club car where there were sandwiches and chips. They parked themselves in one of the booths, but when Rick 'heard' too many people getting curious about them, they headed back to their cabin.

When night fell, there was a knock on the door. A porter asked to come in and she made the beds and turned everything down. "We'll be stopping in North Carolina during the night," she told them, "so don't be surprised if you wake up and the train is stopped."

George and Rick stayed up until almost midnight, and then, finally, they gave in to exhaustion. Rick found himself awake again, though. He checked his phone. It was around two in the morning. On a whim, he tried texting his Mother. He stared at the screen, willing the bubble that would tell him someone was responding, but it didn't appear. "I hope you're okay," he whispered into the night. "I'm coming to find you, Mom." Rick turned on his side. He tucked his phone under his pillow as if somehow just having her contact information close would make her close, too.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

 _TRIGGER WARNING: This section contains descriptions of sexual violence. It can be skipped and the outcome derived from future chapters_.

When Sookie woke up it was because she was shivering. Bill hadn't spent that much time with her last night, but the hours he had spent left an impression. In spite of her crying, then threatening, then begging, Bill stripped her, used her, and then tied her so her hands were over her head and secured to a chandelier. He walked around her, cataloging her scars. He told her not to worry, that he would make her good as new, and then he'd brought back a knife.

Sookie screamed until her throat was raw, but it didn't seem to faze Bill in the least. He peeled the skin back from her belly, then bit into his arm, spreading his blood over her raw, exposed dermis. "Normally, I would glamour you," he said as if Sookie and he were having a normal conversation over iced tea, "but you're immune to glamour, so we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way."

After her belly, Bill dug out the scar on her shoulder left over from the gunshot wound. There were smaller scars on her upper arms from flying glass and other small accidents she'd had over the years. When at last Sookie was reduced to sniffling and moaning, Bill lifted her chin, "Don't worry, Sweetheart. You'll heal and it will be as if none of this ever happened. I don't know why you didn't do this before. There's no reason for you to be blemished. Your skin is so beautiful." He was smiling as he said, "With vampire blood, you'll be perfect." He licked the knife and was stepping behind her when he stopped.

"Oh, I'm sorry you came so late. We'll have to stop now. I'll leave you in the bathtub. It will be a little cold, but it's better than having you ruin my rugs." Bill twisted ropes around her, tight enough that Sookie was sure he was cutting off her circulation. He had forced blood down her throat earlier, and her wrist, although it throbbed, was not as painful as it had been.

Bill threw a drop cloth in the large bathtub he'd installed, the one where they had soaked together once upon a time. "I wish there was time for us to make love again, Sookie. It feels so good to have you back in my arms." Bill dropped her roughly in the tub, wrenching another scream from her as her new wounds impacted with the hard surface.

"It will all be better tomorrow night," Bill crooned, stroking her face. "We'll finish fixing you and then we'll be together forever." Sookie could barely think what he was saying, and then his wrist was against her pressed lips. He squeezed her nose shut until she opened her mouth, gasping for air, and Sookie found herself choking as the blood flowed into her mouth, some of it finding its way down her throat.

"Good girl," Bill was smiling. He stroked her hair and frowned a little.

"Please, Bill," Sookie gasped. "Please, Bill, let me go. I have a son. I…"

"I had a son," Bill replied. "I had a daughter, too, but I had to leave them when Lorena brought me over. You'll see. Everything will be different."

Eventually, Sookie fell into a fitful sleep. Every sound startled her. She thought it was Bill returning. She woke up so thirsty, her throat burned. She cried, but no tears seemed to fall. She tried to wiggle, first one way and then the next, but the pain was so great, she would see black spots dancing in front of her eyes. There were long moments, maybe hours, when she almost felt herself in a trance and she wondered if that was the shock her body was experiencing, or the effect of all the blood Bill had forced her to drink.

Somewhere, in the back of her head, Sookie knew Bill intended to turn her. It made her almost desperate. Sookie couldn't imagine what it would be like to have Bill as her Maker, but the images that were forming in her head made her want to die. She thought about trying to rip her wounds open further, allowing herself to bleed out before he rose, but then she thought about Rick. She couldn't bring herself to abandon him, but she couldn't see how she could help him if she was bound to Bill Compton.

Although she didn't know what time it was, there was light coming from somewhere. Sobbing, Sookie made herself move up the side of the tub. Every part of her screamed. Her arms ached and her shoulders burned with the strain of being tied. Her legs were numb, but she managed to bend her knees enough to push herself forward, and then forward again. She couldn't stop the tears from falling, and she thought she could see Neave and Lochlan in the room with her, watching her with their hungry, slanted eyes. "I hate you!" Sookie grunted through clenched teeth. "I hate you!" and she wasn't sure if she was talking to Neave, Lochlan, Bill Compton, or herself.

By some miracle she made it over the edge of the tub and she fell heavily to the floor. The impact jarred something into life and the pain was so sharp, she lost consciousness.

When she opened her eyes again, she was spread-eagled on a bed and Bill was over her.

He took his time. Sookie was dry, so Bill spit on his hand and then stroked himself several times before he could penetrate her, but once he started, he wasn't anxious for it to end. It was hateful, the things he said. He talked about their destiny and how he knew this was what was meant to be. He apologized for thinking about giving her to the Queen, and he told her he wouldn't have turned her over in the end. When he finished, he tried to kiss her, but Sookie turned her head. "That's all right," Bill said as if she was the one who was wronging him. "You'll be able to see how right we are together soon. Don't fret yourself!"

Bill was humming as he walked back into the bedroom, the knife in his hand again.

This time he went to work on her legs. There had been places where the fairies had bitten so much flesh from her that it left hollows. Those hollows had evened over time, but the flesh there was still hard and shiny. Bill went after those areas, sometimes cutting quite deep. He would stop to drink blood from the bottles on the bedside table, or to lick the flowing blood from Sookie herself.

He stopped after every time he'd excised another area of scar tissue, bite deep into himself and allow his blood to pour into her wounds. Each time Sookie could feel the alien nature of it as it seemed to fuse into her flesh. The bleeding would slow and she would feel something that felt like healing, but wasn't, replace the searing pain.

Finally, Bill threw the knife to the floor. "I think that's all of it," he told her. "We should wait a little bit. Long enough for things to really get started. I'd hate to make things permanent too soon. You'd be stuck looking like this forever," and he started to laugh.

"Bill, if you ever loved me," Sookie begged, "Please let me go. You don't want to do this. You know I never wanted to be turned. I need the sun…"

"You need me!" Bill hissed in her face. "You need me and that's never going to end now!" Bill leaned over her, kissing her closed mouth, forcing her mouth open. He ran his hands over her breasts, pinching her nipples and twisting until Sookie cried out.

"See? You need me. You want this!" he hissed. He brought his hand between her legs and rubbed blood and his semen into her, then kissing her breasts, he took her again.

It all became one. For a long time, Sookie felt as if she was floating above herself. She could see Bill on top of her. She could see her eyes screwed shut and her face reflecting her pain and humiliation, but she couldn't feel anything anymore. It was like watching a movie where she wasn't really a part of it. She was an observer and none of it was real.

It was sometime later when she heard Bill whispering in her ear, "Tomorrow you'll be mine, Sookie. We'll be married in the only way that matters." She felt something warm and figured Bill must have thrown a blanket over her.

"Please, Bill," she gasped. "Please, I need water. I need the bathroom."

The ropes were loosened and Sookie found herself pushed into the bathroom and placed on a toilet. Bill stood over her, his arms crossed. "You won't miss this," he assured her.

She begged him to leave, to give her some privacy, but Bill refused. When she balked, he grabbed her arm to pull her away, so Sookie relented, going to the bathroom in front of him. When she'd finished, he roughly picked her up, threw her back on the bed, and secured her hands and legs again. He disappeared, then came back with a bottle of water. He lifted her head to help her drink, but still managed to dribble most of it down her chest, soaking the pillows and sheets around her.

"That's enough," he growled.

"Why?" Sookie asked.

"Why what?" Bill asked.

"Why are you doing this?" Sookie could feel her despair setting in. She didn't think she had the strength to fight anymore.

"Why, because I love you," Bill told her. He leaned over Sookie and tweaked her nose. It was an appallingly affectionate gesture and the tears she thought she no longer had flowed again.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

It almost seemed surreal when the announcement came. They had arrived in New Orleans. The trip took hours and hours. Rick realized that this was the longest he had ever been in transit. He felt disoriented and for a minute, as he stepped down off the platform, he had the distinct impression he was stepping into a different world altogether.

It was warmer here. George and Rick had agreed to wear their uniforms again. The reaction they'd received, even from the creeper in New York, convinced them that it gave them a kind of protection. The jackets said they belonged somewhere, so no one felt inclined to ask why they weren't in school or whether they were lost, even though they were kids.

George stopped at a kiosk near the door of the station and grabbed a map, and they both walked out of the terminal and into the bright sun. There were some benches nearby and they sat down to figure out what to do next.

George had received the first panicked text from his Mother about an hour before they arrived. The school had become curious and called her. He'd texted that he was okay, and that made her call.

"I'm okay," he'd sighed, and even from where Rick was sitting he could hear Mrs. Hermosa yelling.

"It's okay, Mom," George repeated, "I'm in New Orleans. Rick and I…" and Rick heard more yelling that he figured was telling George in no uncertain terms what a terrible friend he was and how Mrs. Hermosa didn't want George hanging out with him anymore.

George showed his merit though. He said, "Look, Mom, I don't want to get into this. We're here in New Orleans and we're heading to the Palace. If anyone knows where Dad it, it's them. If they don't know where he is, they have a duty to find him. It's their code." George listened, and then said, "Rick, she's asking me to put her on speaker." He set the phone on the table between them and pushed the button.

"You boys listen to me," Mrs. Hermosa's voice was strident, and her Southern accent was more pronounced. "There's been a takeover in Louisiana. There's a new King and that means trouble. They sent someone North to get me and move me to Mississippi for safety, and while they haven't really told me anything…" and Rick got the impression George's Mom was struggling to hold it together. After a minute, she took a deep breath and said, "While they haven't told me anything specific, I think there's been a fair amount of violence."

"When was this, Mom?" George asked.

"Two days ago," his Mother replied. "I want you boys to stay away from the Palace until I call you back. Indira, you remember her, George? Your Father's friend? She's with me and she says these things usually blow over pretty fast. I'm going to have her call the Palace as soon as she rises. Can you boys please wait until I call you back?"

"Yes, Mom," George told her.

"You promise?" his Mom pushed. "You, too, Rick? You promise?"

They did, and now they sat on the bench, wondering where the Palace might be located. While they'd promised not to go until they heard from her, they still wanted to know how far away it was.

Rick pointed at the place on the map that was labeled the French Quarter. It wasn't far, maybe half a mile. "You want to walk there to wait?" he asked. "We could get some food. See the sights while we're here."

"You really do have balls of steel," George chuckled. "Sure. Why not?"

They shouldered their bags and started walking down the streets. There were plenty of people who looked like tourists walking around. They passed stores and hotels. At one point, they crossed a street that had trolley tracks and what looked like old-fashioned street cars running up and down. There were open front restaurants with piped music, but they kept walking until they found themselves walking down a narrow street between brick buildings. It didn't look promising. The buildings were close to the sidewalk and there was nothing to see, but then, in another block, the buildings moved back from the sidewalk, the streetlights changed, and they were walking down some of the most photographed streets in the United States.

"Wow!" Rick couldn't help looking around. There were two-storied buildings with elaborate metal balconies. Fern pots and trailing flowers swayed gently and the stores on both sides of them hawked everything from high-end antiques to cheap souvenirs. They came to a restaurant that had small tables set on the brick sidewalk under the sun and more tables inside. The walls were open and there were fans turning slowly, suspended from pressed metal ceilings. The sign on the sidewalk advertised Po' Boy sandwiches and they decided to stop.

When the sandwiches arrived, they tucked in, eating the way only teenage boys can. "Do you think it's close?" George asked, shoving another French fry in his mouth.

"Don't know," Rick answered. "I can't feel anything," and he pointed briefly at his head. Rick pulled out his map again, studying the layout of the street.

"You boys here for a school project?" their waitress drifted over.

"Yeah, kind of," George hemmed.

"We're supposed to be taking pictures of the architecture," Rick smiled his particularly charming smile, the one he used when he wanted something. "But we figured as long as we were down here, we'd take a look at the vampire palace, too. Know where that is?" and he winked.

The waitress gave them a knowing look, like Rick knew she would. "It's always the same with you young folks! Want to go flirt a little with danger. Well, I can't say I blame you! It's just like having our own little horror movie down here, twenty-four, seven," and she winked back. "Now, if I was you boys, I'd go now, while they're all still asleep. Believe me, they have guards there, even in daylight, so you're not getting too close, but it is something to see." She leaned over the table and pointed at a block just north of the Quarter. "It's right there. Pretty much the whole street front, so you won't miss it." She turned around and picked up a pitcher of ice water and started refilling their glasses. "There was some goings on over there a couple nights ago. Guess they made some arrangements with Hollywood folks. They were shooting some movie or other. People yelling and running out into the street. They had lots of guards along the barricades to hold back the tourists. Here, there's a picture in the paper," and the waitress walked back to the bar and returned with the local paper, which she set down on the table. The front-page photo showed two people catching a third who looked to be screaming. The caption said, "Made in New Orleans!" and touted the scene as soon to be included in an upcoming blockbuster.

George looked at Rick. Rick didn't have to poke into George's head to know they were both thinking the photo was no Hollywood stunt. It was what a takeover looked like, and Rick felt a chill, staring at it.

"The Palace is only a couple blocks from here," George's tone was less enthusiastic.

"Let's go take a look while it's day," Rick nodded.

"I don't know," George hedged. "We promised my Mom we wouldn't go until she called."

"She meant not to walk up to the door," Rick said reasonably. "We're not walking up. We're just going to take a look."

George didn't say anything, but after a bit he nodded. They paid their bill and left a tip. Their money was starting to run a little low. They'd avoided using George's emergency credit card, but they figured if they needed to get a hotel room, that was next.

They crossed streets with names they recognized, and they were tempted to take a side trip up Bourbon Street, but then glanced at the sun and continued on their way.

The Palace was where the waitress described it. From the outside, there really wasn't much to see. The street in front of the building was blocked off with metal barriers weighted down with sandbags. Rick couldn't help looking at the street pavement, wondering if there were stains or other signs of struggle, but the pavement looked newly washed. The building itself looked like an office building. There were no signs or markers. Rick could see someone standing inside the glass double doors looking out. That person appeared to be wearing some kind of dark uniform.

"So," George whispered, "this is it."

"Why are you whispering?" Rick asked, his voice sounding a little louder than usual, but even to his own ears, his voice sounded out of place. There was something ominous about the building. They both stared up, noticing the odd shimmer to the few windows that were in place. Most of the building was smooth, block wall.

"We should go somewhere and wait for my Mom to call," and George turned away, walking back toward the Quarter. He didn't wait for Rick, his legs scissoring fast as though he was being chased.

They made their way to Jackson Square. There were plenty of benches and shade. They settled down and George pulled out his phone. He pulled up a game and then pulled out some earbuds.

"Hey," Rick nudged him, "I'm weirded out, too!"

"Something bad happened there," George snuffled. "You can just feel it."

Rick nodded, and pulled out his phone as well. They'd agreed to wait for George's Mom to call, and that wouldn't be for another half hour or so. "I'm sorry she didn't say anything about your Dad," Rick added. George looked away and roughly wiped at his face with the back of his hand.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm sure they'll know where your Mom is, too."

George's Mom called back a half hour later. Rick was pretty sure George had been texting her while they waited. "It's arranged," she said. "You both head over to the Palace. I will text you the address."

"We already know where it is," George told her. 

"They know you're coming. Everything will be okay. How soon do you think you can be there?"

"About ten minutes," George replied.

"Do they know anything about my Mom?" Rick asked.

"Indira has asked. They said they'd look into it. Just get over there!" Mrs. Hermosa choked a little, "I just can't believe you did this, boys! It was so irresponsible!"

"I'm sorry," George choked in return, and after telling her he loved her, they got up and walked the blocks back to the vampire palace.

It was different now. There were people patrolling the area that was the street and there were more standing outside on either side of the door. They were wearing what looked like bullet-proof jackets and they openly carried firearms. "Are you sure about this?" Rick asked, but before George could reply, one of the armed men was in front of them. He'd moved so fast that Rick knew he had to be a vampire.

"You're Rubio's boy?" he asked George. When George nodded, the vampire signaled and another came over. They moved the barrier as if the sand-bags weighting it down were nothing. As Rick stepped in behind George, one of the vampires stared at him and his fangs dropped.

"What are you?" he challenged.

"I'm Rick Hale. I'm George's friend. We came down here together."

"Are you Rubio's?" the other vampire asked.

"What do you mean?" Rick was confused. There was something about the way they were challenging him and sniffing that was making him want to leave, but he realized another vampire had stepped behind him. George was being escorted to the front door, but Rick was being herded.

"Who's your Maker?" the first vampire snapped.

"What are you talking about?" Rick was starting to panic. There were vampires everywhere. His head was like a huge, glowing blob. "You mean my parents?"

"Get him inside!" one of them hissed. "No one will react kindly to one this young being made. It just goes to show there was no discipline here. It's a travesty of blood."

Rick found himself locked in between the three vampires and quick-marched in through the double doors. He looked around, but George was nowhere to be seen. "Where's George?" he asked. "We came here together. George's Mom called. Someone here was supposed to be looking for my Mother."

"You're pathetic!" one of the vampires snorted. "Don't you have any self-respect?" 

"He's consorting with humans," another of them said in a snide tone. "He's no better than one of them!"

A vampire was walking past with a clipboard and one of the guards asked, "Hey, did you take the call from Rubio's woman?"

The vampire looked at the guard as if he was dirt under her feet, but then she nodded. "The human progeny is being sent to his family." Her eyes drifted to Rick and she gave him a once-over that let the young boy know she found him wanting. "What of it?" she continued.

"Did Mrs. Hermosa ask about my mother, too?" Rick said. He didn't care that the vampire guards hissed at him.

The female vampire smiled a little, then said, "She said there was another woman with Rubio, a member of De Castro's retinue, but I never heard of her. She hasn't turned up." The female vampire looked at the name she'd written on her clipboard and then crossed out, ' _Susan Hale_.'

"This one says he's here to find his mommy," one of the guards chuckled.

"Why are you still in touch with her?" the female looked offended. "Who's your Maker?"

"Why do you people keep asking me that?" Rick challenged. "I don't have a Maker. I have parents!"

Guard Three grabbed Rick's upper arm and half-dragged, half-marched him to a bench halfway down the hall. Pushing him toward it, the guard said, "Well, I'll tell you what, Mr. Special Snowflake, you can just sit down here on the Special Snowflake Bench until we figure out what to do with you."

"I need to find my Mom!" Rick shouted in frustration.

"Well, I need to rip someone's throat out and drink them till their dry," and the vampire's fangs were down and he was in Rick's face. "You volunteering?"

"Don't bother!" one of his companions laughed. "He'd barely be a mouthful." Then that vampire walked closer and, running his hand up Rick's arm, said, "but if you get hungry, I'd share my coffin with you. I'm sure we could work something out."

Rick blushed. The vampires around him became very still and their eyes all seemed to have the same speculative look. Rick was starting to wonder how far he'd get if he ran for the door when a short woman with blond hair walked past, "What are you doing, loitering? It's time to clean up and there's still plenty to do."

"Yes, Karin," One of them bowed and they all moved away from Rick. The one they'd called Karin never paused. She turned the corner and Rick found himself alone in the corridor.

Rick wasn't sure what to do. He figured he was near the main entrance, but there were guards standing near the doors. If he tried to escape the building, he didn't think he'd get far. There were more people moving in the corridor that ran along the front of the building, but Rick was afraid to wander too far. He wondered where George was, and he had a sneaking suspicion his friend was already far away.

There was a scuffling noise and a moan and vampires turned down his corridor, dragging people Rick assumed were prisoners between them. The prisoners were bloody and one was missing a foot. They were in obvious pain, but the vampires dragging them were laughing and making light of their prisoners' discomfort. Rick remembered his mother telling him vampires were cruel and vain. One of the captors turned his head as he passed Rick, bared his fangs, and hissed. Rick felt it all the way to his toes.

"It's good to have Eric back." The voice drifted from somewhere around the corner. For some reason, Rick's ear caught it.

"Who'd have thought it? The Viking! King!" said a second voice

"I never doubted it," said the first. "It was inevitable. I just wish he'd come back sooner."

Rick's mind raced. 'Eric' and 'Viking' just about guaranteed that his father was here, in Louisiana. Since this was the palace, it was a pretty good bet his father was somewhere in the building. Rick thought about what he'd say. He thought about the letter his Mother had written some time ago. He wished he'd brought it. He was sure she would have found the words to explain everything.

Rick glanced at his bag on the floor. His stomach grumbled and he unzipped the top. There was the rest of a can of Pringles and a bottle of water. He had other needs, too, and he glanced around. He'd noticed some of the non-vampire guards walking in and out of a door a little way down the corridor and he decided to take a chance. As he'd suspected, the room was a bathroom, and he used the urinal and then the stall. He washed his hands and smoothed back his hair. It was longer than his Mom liked, brushing the top of his collar. He'd been bugging her to let him grow it out, but she reminded him that Chester dress code frowned on that kind of thing. It was a lame excuse since there were other guys who had longer hair, claiming equal treatment with girls, but he'd gone along.

Rick remembered the way the vampire looked at him when he offered to share a coffin. He remembered the creeper in New York and he started to worry about being a target. He tried taking off his uniform jacket, but with his tall, thin build it just made him look more vulnerable, so he put the jacket back on.

Rick went back into the corridor and sat down on the bench. He opened the water and grabbed a couple Pringles. A vampire walked past. He looked disgusted and hissed, "If you're sick you'll have to eat that, too!"

"Fuck you!" Rick muttered under his breath. He was sure the vampire heard him, but he didn't stop. _'I can't just sit here_ ,' Rick thought. When two more vampires started past him, he said, "Who do I talk with about my Mom?" When the vampires continued, ignoring him, Rick said a little louder, "I want to talk with the King!"

Now the tall, dark one turned. He was smiling, but not in a nice way. "You should shut up and know your place, Abomination! No one wants to talk with you, least of all the King!"

"He does want to talk with me!" Rick insisted.

The dark vampire was suddenly very close, "And why would Eric Northman have any interest in a thing like you?" Every warning bell in Rick's head was clanging. "Why don't you tell me why it's so important for you to see the King and I'll relay the message?" the vampire was saying.

"It's something only I can tell him," Rick stammered.

The dark vampire looked at his companion, "Has it been frisked for explosives?" he asked.

"No, Maxwell," the companion answered, and Rick found himself pretty well hung upside down, rough hands running over him. The vampire managed to rip his jacket and gripped him so tightly Rick knew he'd have bruises. When the companion was satisfied, he dropped Rick to the floor and then grabbed Rick's bag and searched that, too. He took Rick's phone, the rest of the food, and a bottle of True Blood Rick had stashed in the bottom of the bag. "He's clean," he reported, "but he's hot. Probably blood fever."

The one called Maxwell had stood by, his arms crossed over his chest, watching. "I'll give you this," he nodded at Rick. "You're brave." Rick figured Max was saying that because he refused to cry out, even when he was dropped.

"Now will you let me see the King?" Rick asked again.

"Sit down on your bench, little vampire," Max sneered. "You'll wait your turn like everyone else," and then the vampires turned and walked away.

Hours passed. Rick asked over and over to speak with the King, but each time he was either ignored or threatened. "I should just kill you now!" one vampire hissed at him. "You're marked for the dungeon anyway!" Rick hoped that it was just another idle threat. When he worked up his courage, he tried exploring the corridor that ran along the back of the building. It was then he discovered that although it didn't appear he was being watched, he was. He was apprehended and quick-marched back to his bench.

"This is your place!" the guard hissed. "Maxwell has ordered you to stay here, and if you move from it, I'm allowed to give you your final death." For some reason, Rick believed him.

Rick still had his watch. As night turned to morning, Rick noticed the number of vampires seemed to be thinning out. His stomach rumbled and his fangs itched. He needed blood, but he didn't have any. A vampire walked by him. Somehow she must have known because she said, "Don't worry. You'll drop into your day death soon. I'm sure they'll find you a donor on your rising."

"Do you know where the King is?" Rick asked.

"You are persistent," the vampire answered, and shaking her head, continued down the corridor and around the corner.

Rick noticed the bright lights in his head that were vampires started to lessen. One by one they dimmed. It was odd, but Rick was so tired and so hungry it didn't seem important. He opened his bag, hoping the vampire had missed something he could eat. Unfortunately, the vampire had been thorough, but he did find the pennywhistle Peter had handed him when they left Chester. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Holding it one-handed to his lips, Rick started with a Quaker air. It was simple and the notes soothed him. He moved to an Irish tune and then to a song he'd heard a couple times that had Romani overtones.

"How did you get here?" Rick was so startled, he jumped. He dropped the whistle and fumbled down on the floor to retrieve it from under the bench. He stood and found himself towering over a short, dark vampire. She was looking at him with black, piercing eyes.

"I took the train," he said, his voice unnaturally high.

"It's been centuries since I've seen one of you. Where are you from?"

Rick couldn't believe he was having an actual conversation with someone. He knew instinctively that this vampire was dangerous. It was in every line of her body, but he answered her anyway. "Massachusetts," and then he decided to ask her the same thing he'd been asking everyone, "I'm looking for my mother. She came down here with Felipe de Castro. Can I talk with the King?"

"Who is your mother?" the dark one asked.

"Susan Hale," Rick answered automatically, then, blushing, said, "I mean Sookie…."

"Stackhouse," the vampire finished. She gave him a long, assessing look and it took everything Rick had not to squirm. It seemed like a lifetime before she turned and said, "Come with me."

Rick had to hustle to keep up with her. She took the stairs instead of pushing the button for the elevator they passed. Rick held his own, but when she made the turn on the third floor, Rick started to pant a little. The female didn't slow up. She climbed more staircases and was waiting, holding the door open on what the painted stencil told him was the sixth floor.

"Weak!" she sneered.

"I'm not!" Rick growled.

"We'll see," she smiled, and it wasn't unpleasant. They walked down the corridor to a double door where there were guards stationed outside. The guards bowed and one knocked. The door opened and they were admitted.

Rick found himself in a large room. There was a couch and the lamps were on. He didn't really notice the furnishings, though. He couldn't take his eyes off the large, muscular vampire standing framed against the darkness of a night sky. He was blond and his hair was long. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and although he wasn't bleeding, Rick could see that he'd taken a lot of damage. His skin was pink and puckered in places. His face still had angry red marks across half of it and the wound on the man's neck and shoulder looked recent.

There were two women with him. One of them Rick had seen earlier downstairs. Someone called her Karin. The other woman was someone he'd never seen before.

The man Rick knew was his Father barely glanced at him. Instead he looked at the woman who brought him here, "What is it, Thalia?"

"This one," and Thalia was nodding toward Rick. "He is here looking for his Mother."

"What is it to the King?" Karin sneered.

"His mother is Sookie Stackhouse," Thalia answered.

Rick wondered if all the air had left the room. It got hard to breath. The vampire next to him seemed to have anticipated the reaction, but the three in front of him went quiet, more quiet than Rick had ever seen any being before. It was uncanny how still they were, and their eyes were all riveted on him. Finally, the woman he didn't recognize said, "Fuck a zombie!"

"Sookie…" the man said, and then he seemed to be fighting with himself. He looked away, but, after a moment, his gaze was skewering Rick again, "Who sent you?"

And Rick knew this was it. This was the moment he'd been practicing over and over in front of his mirror. He knew he looked terrible. His hair was messed up and his jacket sleeve was hanging, but he drew himself up tall and straight, just like his Mom taught him and he took his steps forward until he was standing just in front of the vampire. The one who was Karin had started to step in front of him, but the King motioned for her to stay still.

Rick swallowed, cleared his throat, and held out his hand. "I'm Corbett Eric Hale," he said, then looking straight into the vampire's eyes as was polite, he added, "and I'm your son."

Rick felt reasonably proud of himself. He'd managed it without his voice breaking or otherwise embarrassing himself, but then the blood roared in his ears and all he remembered was the black rolling over his eyes and the sensation of falling.


	18. Chapter 18 - The River's Bend

**Chapter 18 – The Road's Bend**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

The light was bright against Rick's eyelids. He squinted and then groaned when he received a poke in his sore arm. "Finally decided to rejoin us, I see?" The voice was familiar. Rick opened his eyes to see Amy Ludwig, the same woman who'd examined him in Boston. Her face was close to his and her thick glasses made her look like some kind of exotic bug.

"Where am I?" Rick grimaced, and then as he shifted under the blanket added, "and where are my clothes?"

"You don't do anything by halves," Doctor Ludwig was chuckling. "Guess you went down like someone poleaxed you. Scared the hell out of the Viking."

"Huh," Rick huffed, "I don't think anything fazes that guy!"

"Normally, I'd agree with you, but not this time. I'd give my left nut for a video of last night. I bet it was good." Amy got out of her chair and returned with a clear glass filled with blood. It was hard for Rick to think about blood being part of his diet and normally, he drank out of a ceramic mug, so he didn't have to see it. Still, his fangs were itching and he maneuvered into a sitting position, keeping the sheet pulled up high over his hips, closed his eyes, and started drinking. It tasted amazing. Rick moaned and then felt his other side effect start, so he drew his knees up to try and hide the situation.

"Perfectly normal," the Doctor assured him, causing him to blush and shift some more. She turned to get the breakfast tray that must have been waiting for Rick to wake up.

"How long have I been out?" Rick asked. He rubbed his forehead. It hurt.

"It's nearly noon," Amy told him. "Not surprised your forehead hurts. That's where you landed last night. Lucky you didn't chip your teeth!"

"Has anyone heard anything about my Mom?" It was the only thing Rick could think about.

"We'll talk about what's being done to find your Mom after you're dressed," Amy Ludwig said, using that grown-up tone Rick knew, the one that said she wasn't going to discuss it until she was ready.

"Surprised they called you," Rick said to fill the silence. It was really a question, but he didn't want the Doctor to shut him down on that one, too.

"The fact that I knew about you and didn't say anything hasn't made me any too popular," Amy confessed. The tray held hardboiled eggs, some kind of pastry, and cut-up fruit. Rick inhaled it. He even went so far as to wipe the plate with his finger and then sucked the salt from that, too. "Guess you're hungry," the Doctor laughed her dry laugh.

"Where are my clothes?" Rick asked again. He looked around, but didn't see them. The Doctor had said the conversation about his Mom had to wait for dressing? It was time to get on with it!

"Your uniform couldn't be saved. Your bag with the rest of your things is in the closet," the Doctor gestured toward a door. "There's a bathroom through the other door, over there," and the Doctor gave another arm wave. "I'll step out to let the guards know you're up. I'm supposed to take you into the city, buy you some more clothes, and have you back here and ready for travel in time for the rising."

"You don't seem like the order-taking type," Rick sounded more confident than he felt.

"Neither do you," the Doctor griped as she left the room. Before she was out the door, though, she turned and snarled, "Don't try anything stupid!"

Rick pulled out his jeans and a t-shirt. He looked at the heavier flannel shirt he'd brought and decided not to wear it. It was too warm here.

Once he was showered, the questions that he'd tried to forget crowded forward, tumbling so quickly he started talking to himself to stop the noise in his head. He dressed and walked out of the bathroom to find the diminutive doctor sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, staring at him. Rick jumped back, "Shit! I mean, can't you give a guy a minute?"

"Not when that guy is you," Doctor Ludwig snapped. "From what Lily Hermosa told Pam last night, you and your partner in crime snuck out of your house, hopped a train, and came half-way across the country all on your own."

"We didn't break any laws…" Rick wheedled.

"Don't start with me!" the Doctor leaned in, and any sign of congeniality was gone. "Your Mother should have prepared you better. If you were prepared, you would never have pulled this stunt! If someone had killed you last night, there would have been hell to pay!"

"Where is my Mother?" Rick felt all his bravado drain away. "I waited. I'm dressed, now it's your turn. Has anyone heard anything?"

Doctor Ludwig stood up, and crossed her arms. "So, you do know the value of a deal, and I'll uphold my end. Now that they know who they're looking for, the word's gone out. We think she was with one of De Castro's groups who was sent North."

"I could have told you that!" Rick barked. "If I had my phone, I could show you her text! She was in trouble! I could tell!"

"If she was here with Felipe de Castro's group, you're right," Amy Ludwig nodded, "She would have been a target, but your Mother is probably in better shape than most." It was in the way the Doctor said it that gave Rick some comfort. She sounded so sure. She looked toward the door and said, "At any rate, we can't do anything else until the real blood suckers rise, so let's get our errands done so you can leave when they're ready."

As they walked down the corridor toward the elevator, Rick had a thought. "Do you think Uncle Desmond knows anything?"

"Cataliades?" Amy sounded surprised and then put out. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised to find that he's wrapped up in this! Did he know about you, too?" When Rick nodded, Amy puffed out her lower lip as she thought something over. "Well, he's got enough troubles as it is. I don't think I'll let anyone here know. I'll just use it as a favor to call in later," and she leaned toward Rick, "And you're my witness! I don't know how much help he could be at the moment, anyway. He's on his way to California to deliver Felipe de Castro's fangs to the new Narayana Clan Chief. If he does well, he may even keep his head."

"He's in trouble?" Rick asked. They were out the front door now, and the glare of the sun had Rick squinting.

"He was working for De Castro, officially on his payroll. The King didn't take that news too well. Maxwell Lee wanted to twist the demon's head off," and Doctor Ludwig pushed Rick to start walking toward the Quarter. "Pam told me it was pretty funny, watching the attorney boil and simmer. She said for the first time he didn't try some lawyer dodge to convince the Viking to give him another chance."

"It's hard to think of Uncle Desmond getting on anyone's nerves," Rick shrugged. "I mean he's so meek and…"

Amy Ludwig laughed so hard she had to stop and lean against the building. When she recovered herself, she wiped her eyes and said, "Clearly, you've never seen your 'Uncle Desmond' with a sword! I've got to tell you, kid, you are going to be a source of endless amusement!" Then she looked a little more serious, "Your Mother really didn't prepare you for any of this, did she?"

"No, I guess not," Rick shuffled, "And now, maybe she…" and Rick allowed his frustration to boil out. "She's missing! I keep telling you people that and you treat it like it's nothing! She could be hurt! She could be dead!"

"It's not that we didn't hear you," Amy's expression told him what she thought of his tantrum, "but your Mother is being protected by a powerful witch. Fran Miller's wards surrounding Sookie should make her just about bullet-proof. As long as Fran is alive…"

"That's what you're counting on?" and Rick's voice rose. "Aunt Fran? I don't know if she's still alive! Aunt Lora said she was in the hospital! I haven't had my phone in hours! She could be dead now!"

Doctor Ludwig stopped smiling, "What happened to her?" she asked.

"Aunt Lora said she had a stroke," Rick replied. "She said Aunt Fran wasn't going anywhere, but she's so old! She isn't well."

"When did she go into the hospital?" Doctor Ludwig was leaning forward.

"About a week ago," Rick told her.

The Doctor grabbed his upper arm and got them walking again. "Let's get the things you need and get back to the palace. Everything is probably fine. Witch's spells don't usually stop just because they're incapacitated," but the Doctor was looking less sure.

When they walked into the men's clothing store, the owner was waiting for them. He was tall and broad-shouldered and Rick could tell he wasn't exactly human. Rick was directed to the back, and through a set of curtains. The owner didn't say much, he just looked Rick up and down once and then turned to racks and shelves that held clothes. He pulled out one item after another, tossing them on the two chairs nearest Rick, surrounding the young man with jeans, track pants, and even a suit.

Doctor Ludwig had perched on a stool next to the door that led back to the front of the store. "We're in a hurry," she growled, not looking up from her non-stop texting.

"You should try on one pair of pants," the owner told Rick. "If the fit is close enough, I can adjust the rest." He glanced at the Doctor, "He is very thin. I will need to make alterations."

"You have until nightfall," the Doctor told him. "He has to be ready for travel and we won't have time to stop again." Rick realized he was expected to strip down to his underwear in front of everyone, and taking a deep breath, he did. The owner grabbed pins and a tape and within a short time, Rick was back in his own jeans.

The owner turned to grab t-shirts, mostly in bright colors. Rick held up his hand, "Look, I can pick out my own shirts!" He walked over to the shelf and pulled down a half-dozen men's small long, all in black. When he caught Doctor Ludwig's raised eyebrow, he grabbed one in gray to mix it up.

"You don't think you'll want some more shoulder room?" the Doctor asked, holding up one of his selections.

"I don't like things that hang," Rick told her. "I like my clothes to fit close to my body." For some reason, his answer seemed to restore the Doctor's good humor, and she grinned as they were leaving. Rick hadn't seen any money exchanging hands. Instead, the owner bowed toward him, and Rick, somewhat awkwardly, bowed back.

The Doctor was steering them back toward the Palace when she paused on the sidewalk and said, "You're probably hungry again." As if on cue, Rick's stomach growled.

Rick noticed they were standing outside a restaurant, and Doctor Ludwig was eyeing the menu posted on the wall. "Well, come on," she said brightly, "I can guarantee they don't have enough human food in the palace to feed you, and even if they did, I doubt there's anyone there who can prepare it worth a damn. Besides, we can't go anywhere until the night crawlers are awake," and she steered Rick into a restaurant.

Amy Ludwig was clearly a regular here. In spite of the line at the front desk, they were immediately directed to a good table in the back. When the waiter arrived, Amy said, "You know what I want." She looked at Rick, "What do you like? Fish? Steak? Hamburgers? All three?"

"Steak's fine," Rick answered. The thought of rare meat had his mouth watering. "Baked potato loaded. Cook it medium rare." Water was poured out and a glass of milk showed up as if by magic.

"What's that?" Rick curled his lip.

"Something your bones need. Drink it and I'll get you a glass of blood, too," and Doctor Ludwig signaled. When she told the waiter what she wanted, he gave Rick a skeptical look. "Go ahead, Baby Vamp," Doctor Ludwig teased, "Show him your fangs!"

"I'm not your clown!" Rick retorted, but the Doctor poked him and for some reason, Rick couldn't stop them dropping. The waiter looked impressed and left, returning with warmed blood in a glass.

"Good job," Amy nodded. "He's a Were. News of you will be all over town in no time."

"Isn't that a bad idea?" Rick asked. "Shouldn't I be keeping a low profile or something?"

"Not anymore," Doctor Ludwig told him. "From now on, you want everyone to know who you are and who you belong to. Day-walkers are a big deal. Combine that with being the King's son? No one messes with what belongs to Eric Northman! It protects you and it enhances the Viking's reputation. Win, win."

The waiter returned with their food. The steak was still sizzling, and Rick had a hard time not drooling. He cut into it and after he'd eaten over half, he stopped. "Do you really think he'll do something?"

"Who?" Amy was muscling through a huge bowl of pasta studded with various kinds of seafood in a cream sauce.

"You know… Eric…" and Rick stopped, unsure exactly what he should call the vampire King.

"You mean your Sire?" Amy asked.

"Yeah… I guess," and Rick looked away. "You think he'll help? Finding my Mom, I mean."

Amy smiled and wiped her mouth, "Don't you worry about that for even one minute. The first time I met your Mother, she'd been attacked by a maenad. She was with Bill Compton then and she was in bad shape. Maenads are poisonous and she'd been stabbed good. Your Sire? He had no claim over her at all, but he called me anyway and made clear if she died, I'd die, too. It cost him a lot of money and could have caused problems with his Queen, but he did it anyway. It wasn't the last time he threatened me over her, either." Amy smiled, "I've known Eric Northman longer than any human alive, and I've seen all his moods, so I am telling you, your Mother is the Viking's kryptonite."

"What? You mean like his weakness?" Rick scoffed.

"You've seen him," Amy nodded. "He's impressive, even among his own. He earned that reputation, act by act, and he guards it. The only time his reputation has ever suffered was when he was with Sookie Stackhouse. She had him wound around any finger she wanted and he willingly took all kinds of crap to make her happy."

Rick rolled his eyes, "Yeah…sure, if you say so." The relationship Doctor Ludwig described wasn't the kind that ended in divorce. Eric Northman abandoned his Mother to marry someone richer. She'd told him it was about a piece of paper, a contract. That was, in the end, all his Mother had meant to the vampire, but Rick could see there would be no convincing the doctor.

"You'll see," Amy signaled for the check and they were walking briskly back to the vampire palace as the afternoon hours passed.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Rick was pulling on one of his new t-shirts when there was a knock on the door, and then, without waiting, one of the blonde women he kind of remembered from last night walked in. "So," she stared at him, "You really are his doppelganger, aren't you?"

"Hello! Privacy!" Rick pulled his clothes together, zipping up as fast as he could and then tucking his t-shirt in. "Who are you?"

"I suppose I'm your sister…sort of," and the woman turned her head to the side. "I'm Pam Ravenscroft. And you're… Corbett?"

"Rick," Rick corrected her.

"Rick? Like what?" and the woman's face pulled together in an expression that resembled a rabbit. Her eyes widened and she looked too pleased when she said, "Short for Eric?"

"I don't know," Rick felt off balance. There were rules here he didn't know, and being near this woman who was shorter than him and claiming some kind of kinship was making him nervous. "So…" he licked his lips, "how are you my sister?"

"Eric's my Maker," she told him.

"What is that?" Rick asked. "People have been throwing that word at me ever since I got here. Does it mean he made you into a vampire?"

"What rock have you been living under?" Pam laughed. "Don't you watch television? Yes, a Maker is the one who turns you into a vampire!"

"I didn't grow up with TV," Rick said it the way only someone from New England could, like it was a badge of honor. "We don't have one in the house at all!"

Pam started to laugh, "Sookie? Sookie doesn't have a TV?"

"So what?" Rick started to get mad. He didn't like these strangers laughing at his Mother. "You don't know her!"

"Actually," and Pam started walking around, picking up and examining some of his new clothes, "I know your Mother very well. And just so you know," and Pam gave him a coy look, "your Mother is the one who ruined Eric. She turned him into a total TV addict." When Rick looked skeptical, Pam nodded, "It's true! He'd have a screen in every room just so he could flop down and watch old vampire shows wherever he ended up. Your Mother's favorite? " **Buffy the Vampire Slayer"**!" Rick didn't know what to say. The woman Pam was describing wasn't the person he knew. His Mother told him there was always something better to do than hand his brain over to someone else's imagination. His friends and their parents believed it, too. Only the boarding school kids watched TV in Chester. They were the only ones bored enough to do it.

Pam seemed to decide that conversation was over, so she walked closer and said, "So, Ludwig says you have fangs. True?" She was peering at him as if Rick was some kind of science experiment.

"Yeah," he nodded and concentrated on not allowing them to drop. He was done with putting on shows for these people. "So, are we going to find my Mom?" he asked and he didn't care how rude he sounded.

"Why are you even asking?" Pam seemed amused. "Sookie Stackhouse in trouble? It's like saying the sky is dark or sometimes it rains! Your mother is in trouble and we'll all marshal behind Eric and march off to rescue her!"

"Sick," another voice from the door added. It was the one called Karin.

"This is your other sister, Karin," Pam said by way of introduction.

"Don't say that!" Karin hissed. "We don't really know what it is!"

"I'm standing right here," Rick's eyes narrowed. "Doctor Ludwig told me I'm a Damphir." Rick had done some Googling, and although the information was sketchy and mostly made up for gamers, some of it seemed pretty accurate based on what he'd been experiencing.

"Mongrel," Karin grumbled.

Pam didn't seem the least put out by her sister's reaction, "Jealous!" she taunted.

"Of what?" Karin snarled. "I was chosen! So were you! This?" and she gestured toward Rick, "Was nothing more than an accident. We aren't even connected."

"Enough!" And Eric Northman was in the doorway. "Karin! Arrange donors. We leave within the hour." Karin bowed and scuttled past the Viking. Rick had a hard time not blushing, the Viking was staring at him so intently, but then something kicked in, and Rick threw his chest out and lifted his chin. He didn't notice Pam's grin, but the King's voice was gruff when he asked, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," Rick nodded, "Yes, better." It was a lame answer. Rick had a million things in his head he wanted to say, another million he wanted to ask, but all he could get out of his mouth was, "Thank you for asking, Sir."

After another awkward pause, Eric said, "Pam, he can ride with you? You have room?"

"Plenty," Pam was grinning. She turned to Rick, "It will be nice to have a co-pilot for the way."

"Where are we going?" Rick asked.

"Shreveport," Pam told him. "That's where Rubio and the audit team were last seen."

Rick turned back to the doorway, but Eric Northman was gone.

Pam caught the direction of his look and touched his arm, "Come on, kid. Let's drink and drive!" She led the way to the elevator and this time, they went all the way to the basement level. The doors opened into a large, open area. There were several humans sitting in a semi-circle on furniture that looked like couches. Karin was sitting beside a man, her head at his neck, and Pam walked forward toward a woman who smiled at her and raised her hand as if in greeting. When Pam sat down next to her, she stroked the woman's arm and the woman flipped her hair to the side. Rick realized Pam was about to bite her and he found himself riveted in place. He wanted to turn away, get back in the elevator, and not return, but another part of him couldn't look away, as much as it disturbed him.

Pam didn't seem to notice, but as Rick started to hyperventilate, his eyes swung to where Karin was sitting behind her human, and he could see she was staring at him. As if she timed it, two twin trails of blood appeared on the man's chest, and that was it. Rick spun around, his hand stabbing at the elevator button. The doors opened and he ran into Eric Northman so hard, he almost bounced off him.

"What's wrong?" Eric was looking down at him.

"Hey," Rick was gasping, "I'm not ready for this! I need to get out of here!" Eric glanced over Rick's head, and then he placed his hand on Rick's shoulder and stepped back, bringing Rick into the elevator with him.

"You've never fed before," Eric said it like a statement, moving his head until Rick met his eyes.

"Mom got me bagged blood," Rick told him. He didn't want to cry, not in front of this guy, so he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that the pain of it would distract him.

Eric leaned over and pressed a button that had the car moving again. "Doctor Ludwig tells me you need fresh blood. She told me it's especially important now while you're growing."

"Well, that's great that she's talking about me while I'm not around, but she's okay with blood in a cup, too. She bought me some for lunch." Rick was breathing a little more normally. He took one more deep breath and realized how close he'd come to outright panic. "By the way, where'd she go?" he asked. "I haven't seen her since we got back from lunch."

"Amy has gone to Boston," Eric told him. The tall vampire was still looking at him strangely, and for a moment, Rick wondered if he felt as awkward as Rick did.

Rick nodded, then purposely turned to stare at the doors. "I guess she went to see Aunt Fran, right?" he asked. It was easier not looking at the vampire.

"The witch, yes," Eric said from behind him. The doors opened and Eric said, "Step out. There is something we need to do. It won't take long." He stepped out and held the door open, and when Rick stepped out with him, Eric gestured down the hallway. Eric opened one of a set of doors, and Rick realized they were back in the room where he'd first met the vampire. "Sit," Eric told him and gestured toward a chair. When Rick did, Eric sat down across from him, and then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

"I am told that you are only recently more vampire. Is that right?" he asked. Rick nodded, afraid of where this might be going. "How long have you been drinking blood?" Eric asked him.

"Since Christmas," Rick swallowed.

"And in all that time, your Mother didn't help you learn how to feed?"

There was something in the tone of how Eric said it that had Rick seeing red. "Don't you criticize her!" he bit out. "You don't have any right to say one bad word about my Mother! She's been the best mother I could have ever asked for. She's never made me feel bad about any of the crap I've put her through, and it's been a lot! You dumped her and left her alone with me, so you don't get to say anything!" Rick stood up. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he didn't want to sit here in the same room with Eric Northman!

"Sit down." It was in the way the vampire said it that calmed Rick right down and had him sitting back in the chair. When Rick refused to look at him, Eric sighed, "I apologize," he said. "I did not mean my words to be taken as a criticism of your Mother." He waited then, and Rick finally looked up at him and nodded, Eric added, "I would never criticize your Mother, but you are right to defend her. You would make her proud."

There was a discrete knock at the door. Eric kept Rick's eyes captured with his own as he called out, "Come!" Rick couldn't not look. It was a woman and she sat down on the couch nearest the vampire.

Eric looked at her for a moment, then looked back at Rick. "Feeding is critical for our health," he said levelly. "It is not generally a destructive act. It doesn't hurt anyone, and, in fact, can be quite pleasurable for both parties, if you wish it so."

Rick could feel the tension inside him begin to build again. He knew what was coming, but the vampire didn't make any sudden moves. Instead he continued talking, his words sounding like any of Rick's teachers explaining some new concept. "None of us require much from our donors to survive. Even the youngest who need the most never take more than a cup or two. More is not necessary. For someone like you, who exists on both human food and ours, you should be able to survive on little more than what I need."

Rick stared at Eric. He seemed like a pretty big guy. "How much do you need?" he asked, almost in spite of himself.

"Only two mouthfuls once a day. Of course, if I'm injured, I need more," and Eric gestured to the healing skin still apparent on his face. "But even then, I don't need much. Never enough to injure a donor."

When Rick didn't say anything, Eric stood up and moved to stand behind the woman. "There are several places that work well," he told Rick. The woman didn't look at all worried, in fact, she was smiling at Rick and Rick could hear that she had thought she would feed Eric. Now that is was clear she was meant to feed Rick, she was a little disappointed and just as quickly as Rick wondered why, she thought about having sex with Eric. Rick turned bright red.

"What is it?" Eric asked.

"It's just that…" and Rick blushed harder, too shy to say what he'd heard from the woman's head.

"You read her thoughts?" Eric asked. There was something so knowing on the vampire's face that Rick nodded, and then glanced away.

"You are so like your Mother," Eric's voice was soft and Rick looked back to see the vampire gazing at him in that odd way again.

Eric turned toward the woman and said, "Feeding is pleasurable, and there are acts that enhance that pleasure. Sex during feeding is natural between vampires and donors…" Eric hesitated, and then observing Rick's flaming face didn't say anything more.

Rick tried not to think about it. This was his Father, supposedly, his Sire, and he was talking about having sex with random women. Rick could tell from her thoughts that the woman in the room with them hadn't had sex with Eric, but she wanted to. It was confusing. "So," Rick stammered, desperate to change the subject, "Where's your wife? The one you left my Mother for?" It was a rude thing to say, and Rick saw Eric's eyes go flat. Rick immediately regretted saying it, but he felt he couldn't take it back, so he swallowed and stuck his chin out further.

"My Queen is finally dead," Eric's voice was flat, too. "But this is distracting us from our purpose. Stand up!" Rick didn't dare defy the vampire any further. There was something there now, a restrained violence, and Rick knew he'd pushed farther than he should. "Come here!" and Eric gestured to the seat next to the woman. Rick could barely bring himself to put one foot in front of the other, and then he made himself look at Eric. He remembered his Mother telling him about how she'd met him and how this vampire made her laugh. He couldn't see it. All he could see was the cold man who could leave his Mother even though she loved him, all for the promise of money and power. Rick's lip jutted out and he found his anger propelled him forward.

Eric watched the young man and rightly saw Rick's attitude shift. Eric could understand it. Sookie may have said she loved him in Denver, but she told her boy something else. "You will have a numbing agent in your saliva," Eric explained. It was the same explanation he had given Karin and Pam. Then, he could compel his progeny, using his Maker's command. This one he would have to train using other means. He pointed to a place on the woman's neck. "This is where things are closest to the surface and there are fewer nerve endings. It is easiest to lick the area, but you can transfer your saliva using your fingers if you are more comfortable."

Eric noticed that avoiding using the word 'blood' had a calming effect on the boy. Rick opted to lick his fingers and then puddle them against the woman's neck. She giggled, and Eric could see it almost cost Rick his composure. "This woman is a paid donor," Eric said carefully. "She has volunteered for this job and she uses the money to pay her tuition at school. If she doesn't donate, she isn't paid. She does this because she wants to."

"It's true," the woman confirmed. "I don't mind donating. It's easy money for me."

It was enough to embolden Rick. He leaned over and licked this time, and his fangs dropped. He looked up at Eric and, in that moment, Eric saw himself as he was that first time he had fed. Appius insisted the Viking drain both a brother and a sister. He forced Eric to endure the horror of their cries and begging. It was meant to be his Maker's first lesson in the inconvenience of emotions, and it was a lesson that made Eric hate himself for a long time.

"It doesn't hurt her," Eric repeated. "And I am here to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"Do I have to?" Rick asked.

"It is our way," Eric replied.

Rick closed his eyes, his face reflecting his reluctance. His strike wasn't clean and the woman flinched, but once her blood hit his tongue, Eric could see that Rick appreciated the difference. His face relaxed and he started to drink in earnest. "One mouthful," Eric told him, "Now two. And that's enough."

Rick looked up, his eyes troubled, but no longer angry. Eric placed his hand on the young man's head, "Now, lick the wounds. Your saliva will heal her so there is no tearing or scarring." Rick detached and did a credible job repairing the woman's neck. There was blood on the woman's shirt and Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. He handed it to the woman, "Thank you. For your troubles."

The woman rose and she turned around and kissed Rick's forehead, "You did good," she told him.

When the woman left, Eric looked at Rick. "You have had your first lesson in what it is to be vampire. Know this, if you ever disrespect me in front of strangers again as you did tonight, there will be other lessons you will learn, and they won't be so pleasurable. Do you understand me?"

Rick looked suitably cowed, "Yes, sir," he replied.

Eric knew he should be angry, but he couldn't find it in himself. Every time the boy showed his defiance, Eric saw Sookie. "Come," he walked to the door, not looking behind him to see if the boy was following. "We leave for Shreveport."

As he walked down the corridor, Eric prayed he would find her. He prayed he would reunite Sookie with this child. He prayed she would help him to find the bond that his head told him he should feel with Rick, but didn't.

Eric didn't wait for the elevator. He took the stairs, the heavy sound of the boy's feet running after him.


	19. Chapter 19 - When We Gather

**Chapter 19 – When We Gather**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

"So," and Pam took her eyes off the road to look at Rick, "how was it?"

"How was what?" Rick didn't want to look at her. It was more comfortable staring out his window, watching the world pass by. His mind was a jumble. He'd bitten someone and he'd liked it. He was drinking blood from people and he liked that, too, far more than drinking bagged blood. It made him question things he thought he knew and he didn't like the feeling. He wished he could talk with his Mom, or with Aunt Fran. They always seemed to know what to say, but he couldn't, and the thought that they might be lost to him forever made his stomach twist.

"Feeding, of course," Pam persisted. "It never occurred to me that you hadn't…"

Rick rounded on her, "You're not going to say anything mean about my Mom, are you?" he snapped.

Pam's face lost all sign of humor, "No, I wasn't," she said, and she gave him as good a 'Mom' look as his own could have done. "I always considered your Mother my friend. Circumstances may have kept us apart, but I've never known a braver, funnier, or more clever person. Your Mother taught me how to shoot a shotgun. I imagine she didn't tell you anything about that."

"No, she didn't," Rick admitted. "I didn't even know I was related to vampires until a few months ago."

"So," Pam pointed out, "I guess I could get all bent out of shape that she thought so little of me that she never told her own son, my own brother through blood, about me. If you look at it from my point of view, it's almost like Sookie wanted to forget she was ever a part of our lives." Pam shrugged, "I can tell you, it's kind of hurtful."

"Mom told me about the contract," Rick said. Pam glanced at him, but when she didn't say any more, Rick said, "Mom said they were married and he divorced her because he got a better offer."

"She told you she was married?" Pam asked, and she looked surprised. When Rick nodded, she said, "Well, that's something, I suppose, but as for the rest? That's a pretty thin description of what happened." Pam sighed and shook her head, "Eric really has no one to blame but himself."

"I'd say so," Rick shrugged, "after all, he left her, right?"

"Eric gave up two hundred years of his life in trade to make sure your Mom was safe," Pam huffed like that explained things.

"So what?" Rick challenged. "He moved on and made sure she was left all alone."

"Your Mother was not 'all alone' when Eric left," Pam growled. "She was sleeping with someone else. Did she tell you that? I'm sure it was because she wanted to punish Eric, but it was a real slap in face all the same."

"Like divorcing her wasn't?" Rick snapped back. "There have been guys who've asked her out, and she turns them all down. She tells me it's because I'm all the man she needs in her life, but Aunt Fran told me it was more than that. I think it's because of him! When she finally told me about him, her whole face lit up. She was different."

"Eric should have explained things to your Mother," Pam looked sad. "He and I fought about it a lot at the time. He was so sure he could wiggle out of the contract. He figured it would worry her and he didn't want to upset his Princess." Pam chuckled, "All your Mother had to do was look at him sideways and Eric would do whatever she wanted. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint her. Sookie already had such a poor opinion of vampires and Eric figured telling her about the contract would just make it worse."

Rick thought about it for a minute, then asked, "What went wrong? If he was so sure he could get out of it, why didn't it work?"

"Because sometimes Eric is too confident for his own good," Pam sighed. "He'd done everything he could to piss off his new King. He was barely being civil, and then we killed the King's Lieutenant." Pam shot Rick a look, "That's not for public sharing, not even with vampires! It will probably come out now that Eric is King, but it won't be from me, and it better not be from you! Anyway, your Mother was in the middle of it, right up to her eyeteeth. She's the one who came up with the plan and it was a regular bloodbath. Anyway, everyone knew who did it, but no one would talk and that made Eric too dangerous to remain in Louisiana. Felipe figured it was only a matter of time before Eric killed him, too."

"Felipe de Castro? The King my Mom was working for?" Rick asked. When Pam didn't say anything, Rick asked, "What happened to him?"

"Felipe?" Pam one-arm shrugged, "Well, as it turned out, old Felipe de Castro was right. Eric did kill him. That's how Eric became King."

For Rick, it was like all the pieces fell into place, "The takeover! That was Eric…"

"You should probably call him your Sire, or your Maker," Pam told him. "It will help people figure out where you fit in."

"That sounds so weird," Rick huffed.

"Well, you could try Father," Pam smirked, "How about Daddy?"

Rick couldn't help himself. He smiled and then he laughed. "Yeah, I don't think so," he told Pam. "He's kind of a scary guy to be 'Daddy,' if you know what I mean?"

Pam shrugged, "No, not really. Eric's strong, but I know I can depend on him. He takes care of me and Karin." Pam adjusted her hands on the wheel of the van, "I know you don't believe it, but he loves your Mom. He likes you, too."

"Yeah, you're right," Rick looked back out his window, "I don't believe it."

"Well, let's look at the facts," Pam smirked. "He didn't have to teach you about feeding himself. He could have handed that task to any one of us. Plus, I'm betting, based on the way you're acting, that it wasn't a bad experience. He went out of his way to make it okay for you. He didn't have to do that either, and most Makers wouldn't. I can tell you that Eric's Maker used it to terrify him. Eric was made the old-fashioned way, and my Grand-Sire was damn cruel about it."

"Mom told me Eric was a Viking," Rick said, "a real Viking."

"That's true," Pam nodded. "and his Maker was a Roman soldier."

"What about you?" Rick asked.

"Victorian age," Pam smiled. "Eric saved me. I was made to be a vampire and I've never looked back!"

"I can't see you in corsets," Rick smiled.

"Me either," Pam smiled, "although there's some things I do miss."

"Like what?" Rick asked. He found it was getting easier and easier to talk with the petite blond.

"Silly things," Pam shrugged. "Games, songs."

"Tell me if you know this one," Rick said and he pulled his pennywhistle from his pocket and played an air he'd been told was popular in the era Pam described. It seemed Rick was told right, because Pam sang the words as he started the second chorus, and then sang in counterpoint to his melody. When they finished together, Pam laughed out loud.

"I haven't heard that since… well, since then," and then she said, "Thank you."

Rick looked at the flute in his hand, "Why didn't Eric have me ride with him?" Rick wasn't sure why he wanted to know. Being near the vampire made him nervous, but the idea that this really was his Father was starting to take root. "I figured maybe he'd want to get to know me better."

"First of all," Pam shifted, "Eric still doesn't know how to feel about you. That's not a bad thing, but I can tell you he's confused."

"Did he tell you that?" Rick asked.

"Eric tell me how he feels?" and Pam chuckled. "Mr. Silent Treatment talks about everything under the sun, but tell you in words what's going on under the surface? Not likely! No, I don't need him to tell me. I can feel it," and Pam pointed toward her head, "in here. It's because he's my Maker. He can cut off our bond, but while it's in place, like now, I feel pretty much everything he does." Rick didn't say anything, but it made him feel better.

"Oh, and Eric likes to drive fast," Pam laughed. "Like, so fast he should get more tickets than he does."

Rick looked around the interior of the minivan Pam was driving. The speedometer hadn't gone much below seventy the entire time they'd been on the road, but the way Pam was talking, it sounded like Eric Northman drove faster.

"So, he didn't want me in the car because he's a speed demon?" Rick asked.

"You're breakable. And, of course, he's racing the sun," Pam seemed to be laying it all out as much for herself as for Rick. "He's going to be talking and plotting the whole way up, trying to figure out what happened. By the time we get there, he'll probably have everyone in an uproar and things in motion." Pam looked at Rick, "He's going to do everything he can to find your Mom."

"Do you really think he still loves her?" Rick asked.

"I'm so sure, I bought her childhood home, so he'd always have a reminder of her," Pam winked.

The conversation dried up and Rick thought about what he'd heard. He was pretty sure his Mother still loved the vampire, but it was another thing entirely to think the vampire might still love her, and that there was a possibility that they might want to be together. Rick laid his head against the headrest. The next thing he knew, Pam was shaking him. "Pit stop!" she said, shaking her head and getting out of the car.

Rick wiped the side of his mouth. He'd drooled a little in his sleep and as soon as he shifted, his bladder started screaming. They were pulled up outside a little restaurant with a parking lot surrounded by trees and thick underbrush. "Just give me a minute," he called and made a beeline for the nearest tree.

"I so don't miss that," Pam quipped, leaning against the car and not turning away at all.

Rick shook, tucked, zipped, and as he walked, said, "Doctor Ludwig says I get the best of all worlds. I get to eat anything I want. I sleep when I want. I can get a sunburn…"

"Oh, crap!" Pam spit out. "That's right! You'll need a babysitter!"

"I don't need a babysitter," Rick was offended.

"Oh, sure, like I can trust you to stay out of trouble during daylight hours?" Pam's eyebrow lifted. "You are way too much like your Mother! Trouble just follows you!"

"I have no idea where we are. I don't have transportation. I've lost my phone. I'm not going anywhere!" Rick protested.

"It wouldn't have stopped your Mother and I don't believe it would stop you either," Pam shrugged as they walked into the diner.

The place was busy, but Rick could see it was the end of the evening rush. Tables were filled, but most people looked as if they were getting ready to leave. A waitress walked past them, "Just give me a minute," she called out, "I'll clear out a booth for y'all."

Rick's stomach growled. There looked like there was a lot of fried food here and it all smelled good. "Been a long time," a man with graying hair was standing next to Pam.

"I don't get out here much anymore, Shifter," Pam replied.

The man glanced at Rick briefly, and the way his eyes turned cold and his lip curled said, ' _Nothing worth looking at_ ' as clearly as if he'd said it out loud. The 'Shifter' turned back to Pam and continued reporting, "Alcide called me last night. I haven't heard anything, not about either of them. If they did come around here, they didn't stop in. Someone would have mentioned it." Rick realized that whoever this was, he was talking about Rick's Mom. The man glanced at Rick a second time, "There's something odd about this one," he said as if Rick wasn't standing right there.

"Careful," Pam purred. "You might say Rick is one of the family. Eric is very attached to him."

"Funny how things turn out," the man's voice sounded bitter. "Of everything I would have guessed, Eric Northman killing his way to the top wasn't one of them. Sam Merlotte," he said, acknowledging Rick for the first time.

"Rick Hale," Rick answered and automatically held out his hand. Sam looked surprised, but he took it, and then looked surprised again.

"You're warm," he stammered. "I thought… you smell like a vampire."

"He's a different kind of vampire," Pam said by way of explanation. "He's also hungry."

"I have blood in the back," Sam offered.

Rick glanced at one of the tables, "The chicken fingers look good," he replied.

Sam's eyes widened and then he wiped his hands on his apron, "Sure, chicken fingers. I'll put an order down for you." Sam nodded to Pam, but his eyes stayed on Rick as he walked by. The waitress was signaling them, and they found themselves seated in a booth set against the front windows.

"What am I going to do with you?" Pam sighed. Rick followed her gaze and found the Shifter was still watching them from behind the bar. "You know," she told Rick, "he could have been your Father."

"That guy?" Rick scoffed.

"He's the one your mother took into her bed after everything started to turn to shit," Pam nodded. "There's some story that she brought him back from the dead." Pam looked straight at Rick, "From what I hear, she still owns half of this place. Take a look around, Rick. All this could have been yours!"

Rick huffed, "That's a hell of a story! I can't see my Mom here at all! All this fried food…" but he stopped talking when Pam laughed out loud.

Rick leaned back, determined not to say anything more. He wanted to tell Pam she didn't know what she was talking about, but there was something in the back of his head that was telling him he was the one being the fool. To pass the time, he started taking a closer look around. While the landscape outside was different from anything he'd seen, he thought the customers looked like people he'd see at home. They wore jeans and t-shirts. There were a couple who were better dressed than others, but then Rick looked closer. They really were different. There was a harshness to them, a hard edge that he wasn't used to seeing. Then Rick started to catch bits and pieces of thoughts from those in the restaurant. Some were curious about Pam and him, but others weren't curious, they were angry.

As Rick listened to their unspoken conversations, he realized most people here knew each other. Whatever town this was, it was a small community and the ties people had to each other here were strong. A couple people recognized Pam, but no one seemed to really know her until Rick caught another set of thoughts and they made him pay attention.

There was a group of men in the back room of the restaurant. There was a pool table back there and several of the group had walked into the main restaurant to get more beer from the bar. They spotted Rick and Pam and they were not happy. Rick heard the thoughts of these men and he could tell how much they hated vampires. They knew who Pam was and what she was. Two of them were looking at Rick, too, and although they weren't sure why he was with Pam, they assumed there was something wrong going on, and he was involved.

Rick couldn't help staring at them. There was one man in particular. He was handsome, but his thoughts weren't. He was thinking that Rick looked like Eric Northman. While this man hated vampires, he hated Eric Northman most of all. He blamed Eric for his family's misfortunes. He wasn't thinking about doing anything in particular, but he wasn't happy about Pam being in the restaurant. He turned to his friends and he was saying the kinds of angry things that could lead to taking action later.

"Good looking, isn't he?" Pam leaned over the table. Rick had been so intent on listening in on the man's thoughts that he jumped. "Do you know who he is?" she asked. When Rick shook his head, Pam sighed. "Sookie really kept you hidden from everyone, even her own family! That's your uncle, Jason. He's your mother's brother."

"Mom told me a little about him," Rick answered, then looked back at the man he now knew was Jason Stackhouse. "She said that when my Grandparents died, she and her brother, Jason, went to live with their Gran, my Great-Grandmother. She said that she and Jason had a falling out." Rick looked back at Pam, "I've never met him."

"Do you want to?" Pam grinned.

Rick shook his head, "No," he said, "and from what he's thinking, he doesn't want to meet me either. He hates vampires, and he hates me because I look like a vampire."

"So, you're a telepath, too," Pam's voice was sympathetic. "Sookie told me how hard it made it for her to be around people. You should have said something."

"Maybe I'm not as telepathic as she is," Rick shrugged. "I don't get too much interference unless I go out and look for it." It wasn't a great explanation for how his head sifted thoughts, but it was as close as Rick could get. The chicken fingers arrived with a side of French fries and a small plate with something else fried. "What are those?" Rick asked.

"Fried pickles," the waitress smiled, "Compliments of the house."

Pam looked at the pickles, her mouth screwed up in disgust. "Your Mother loves those," She lifted her bottle of TruBlood and saluted, "Go ahead. Dig in."

The food really was good, and Rick ate quickly. When over half was gone, his hands slowed. After Rick sat back and took a breath, Pam laughed, "I know you've had plenty to eat today. Where do you put it all?"

"Growing, I guess," Rick shrugged, then he asked, "Did my Mom really grow up around here?"

"Not around. She grew up right here," Pam acknowledged. "This is Bon Temps. This is where your family home is located."

"Can I see it?" the words tumbled out of Rick's mouth.

"Not tonight," Pam sighed. "Right now, I've got to figure out where to stash you. I had half-hoped that we'd run into Stackhouse," and Pam nodded toward the backroom "and he'd prove to be a viable option, but based on what you've heard…"

"He'd be a bad choice," Rick confirmed.

Pam pulled out her phone and started scrolling through what Rick assumed were contacts. "Agreed. Obviously, you can't stay with the mouth-breathers here." Pam glanced at him, "And from what Eric said, the local Packmaster isn't going to be too friendly either."

"Packmaster?" Rick asked.

"Weres," Pam was looking at him with some small astonishment. "You are going to need all kinds of education!"

"I know what Weres are," Rick huffed. "I can even recognize them now! Well, mostly. I know they exist! It's just I hadn't heard 'Packmaster' before."

"Yeah, you're real enlightened," Pam sniffed. "Well, here's a possibility," and she pushed the button.

An hour later, Rick was looking at what was the largest black man he'd ever seen. The man was known here, and the owner of the place, Sam Merlotte, made a point of greeting him. He sat down next to Pam and as Rick stared, another, shorter white man sat down next to Rick. "This is Mustapha Khan," Pam said by way of introduction, and while Rick reached across the table, offering his hand, Pam pointed to the man sitting beside him, "and this is Warren."

"And who are you?" Warren asked.

"This is Rick," Pam said before Rick could respond, "and I suppose you could call him my brother."

"Vampire?" Mustapha's eyes widened, "That explains it, but I have to say, you look mighty alive for a vampire."

"It's complicated," Pam answered again. "Sookie Stackhouse is his mother."

"Sookie!" Warren exclaimed. He smiled brightly at Rick, which made him a little scarier, "Your Mother is an amazing person! I owe her my life. It's a pleasure to meet you," and instead of offering his hand, Rick found himself enfolded in the man's arms. Rick couldn't help hearing Warren's thoughts, and they were mostly kind. It made Rick feel better.

"Mustapha used to be your Sire's Day man," Pam was saying.

"You saying the King turned him?" Mustapha was staring hard at Rick, trying to figure it out.

"I wasn't turned," Rick was feeling overwhelmed. His fangs were itching, and he could feel the weight of unfriendly stares all around them.

"He wasn't," Pam confirmed. "He's something different. There's a name for it, but it doesn't happen often. He's their biological child, Sookie and Eric's."

"No shit!" Mustapha let out a great breath and just stared at Rick, his mouth slightly open.

"That's wonderful!" Warren said, shooting Mustapha a warning look. "So, how can we help?"

"I need to stash him someplace until tomorrow night," Pam explained. "Eric's already in Shreveport. Thalia and Karin are in Minden. We can't have him with us. He's a day walker."

"No shit!" Mustapha said it again.

"And he's a known escape artist," Pam added. "I don't know why Eric didn't force him to take blood. At least then we could have tracked him if he decided to run."

"Drink his blood?" Rick couldn't keep it from coming out.

"And you'd be lucky to have it!" Pam snapped, then rolling her eyes, continued, "Eric just found out about him, and with Sookie missing…"

"Of course, we'll help," Warren agreed. Mustapha gave him a mutinous look, but Warren stared down the man across the table and said, "We'd be happy to do it."

It seemed settled because Mustapha's look softened, "Bet old Eric is all twisted up one side and down the other. Sookie missing and then this," and he started to laugh.

"I don't think it's funny!" Rick was angry, angry enough that he didn't think twice about getting these men angry, too. "My Mother's missing and I don't think there's anything funny about that!"

"Hey!" Sam Merlotte called from the bar, "Keep it down over there!"

Mustapha stopped laughing, "You're right," he said. "It's not funny, and I'm sorry I laughed. We'll find her, don't you worry. The whole Pack's out looking for them."

"Them?" Rick asked. "You mean Mr. Hermosa, too?"

"Rubio, yes," Warren confirmed. "We've been looking for a couple days." He turned to Pam, "They found the warehouse where they were holding their meetings. Someone should send a tracker over there to really check it out."

"A tracker would be able to find them," Pam agreed. She glanced at her watch, "I have to get to Minden before sunrise. I have a house there," and she glanced at Rick.

"Don't worry," Warren was saying, "We won't let anything happen to him."

"Thank you," Pam was texting, "I'll let Eric know. Have him at Fangtasia after sundown. We're meeting there."

Walking out of the restaurant felt like a huge weight lifted from Rick's head. He hadn't appreciated how the angry thoughts of those around him were affecting him, but it was as if a headache had vanished. The relief was so great, he felt almost faint, and the next thing he knew, Rick was standing in the parking lot beside Warren. Mustapha had Rick's suitcase in his hand and Pam was driving away. The sounds of the Louisiana night suddenly seemed to loom large, and Mustapha turned to Rick and said, "You sure look a lot like him. Guess you can't have everything."

Mustapha and Warren lived some distance from Bon Temps and the ride seemed to take a long time. Warren tried to start up a conversation, but there just didn't seem to be anything to say. Rick could feel the weight of the day starting to crowd in on him. When they arrived, it was to drive down a long driveway between trees that seemed too close to the road. The house at the end looked pretty normal. There was a garage to the side, but Mustapha left the car parked in front. The lights were on, and Warren turned to him, "Come on in. We'll get you settled."

Rick followed Mustapha into the house and down a short hallway to a bedroom. "You'll sleep in here," the tall man told him. There was a double bed against the wall and a door open, showing a bathroom.

"Can I get you anything?" Warren was at the door, too.

"No," Rick said, "I'm good."

"Well, fine," and Warren smiled. "If you do need anything, we'll be right across the hall. Just call out."

"And don't try anything stupid," Mustapha growled. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were wary.

Rick nodded, and when the door closed, he sat down on the bed. The room was bare. There was a chest and a mirror, but no picture or other decoration to make the room seem warmer. The air conditioner in the window wasn't running, but Rick figured it wasn't really warm enough to need it. He took a shaky breath. He could hear the rumble of voices outside the room and he thought about how far away from home he was. He thought about his Mother and Chester, and he felt his tears threaten. Curling up on his side, he pulled the pillow to him and stuffed his face into it. "I want to go home," he whispered to no one in particular, and he lay there, stiff and still, willing himself to silence as his grief and exhaustion slipped from his eyes, dampening the pillow and the sheets around him.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Rick showered when he got up. His throat hurt, so he drank water from the tap. He could hear the sound of someone moving around in the house, so he figured it was time to get moving himself. Rick dressed and walked out the bedroom door. Sunshine flooded into the open space that dominated the front of the house. There was a huge sectional sofa facing a flat panel television and a kitchen with a breakfast bar that stretched across the back of the room. Warren was sitting at the counter, sipping what Rick assumed was coffee.

"Hungry?" he asked kindly. "Mustapha ran out to get some fresh milk and I asked him to get a couple bottles of blood, too. Do you drink that stuff?"

"I do," Rick nodded and, for some reason, the feeling and taste of the woman he'd drunk from last night came into his mind. He blushed and ducked his head.

"That doesn't look like any vampire ever," Warren pointed at Rick's pink cheeks. It made Rick blush a little more, but Warren didn't make a big thing about it. He hopped down from his chair and said, "Well, come over here and take a seat. Pam told us you eat human food, too."

As if on cue, Rick's stomach growled, "Sorry," he mumbled. "Yeah, my Mom says I eat pretty much everything."

"I consider it an honor to call your Mother my friend," Warren said. The shorter man was moving around the kitchen, turning on burners, and cracking eggs. "Besides being beautiful, which she is, she has a generous soul. I've never met anyone like her. She can make you feel right at home, like you've known her all your life. It's a talent!"

"We run a B&B at home," Rick found himself telling Warren. "We're full up all the time. People book to return years in advance." Rick remembered his Mom the way she looked, laughing with some guest, or swapping jokes with the people at the local market, and his heart hurt. "I miss her," he said and then fisted his hands, horrified that he might cry again.

Warren had been watching him. He reached across the counter and patted Rick's hands, "Don't you worry! We'll find her," and then he turned back to the stove and started humming a tune, allowing Rick a few minutes to collect himself.

Embarrassed, Rick stood up and turned, taking a good look at the house. This area was entirely open, columns spaced at intervals to support the ceiling. There was a staircase that led to a second story. Rick wondered what they did with that space since he'd figured out that the two men shared the second bedroom across the hall from the one where he'd slept last night. If you ignored the guns that were mounted on racks on the wall or lined up side by side in cabinets, the space was kind of nice. Rick walked over to the flat-screen to check out the stack of disks that turned out to be video games he'd heard of, but never played. That's when he spotted the small keyboard and the fiddle set against the wall.

"Do you play these?" he asked.

"Not really," Warren was busy whisking the eggs in a pan. "Mustapha and I got it into our heads that we could learn, but it didn't go anywhere."

"Do you mind?" Rick asked. His fingers were itching to pick up the fiddle.

"Sure," Warren shrugged, then asked, "You can play?"

Rick lifted the fiddle, squeezed it under his chin and thumbed the strings, one by one. He closed his eyes, listened to the tone, and then turned the pegs until he was satisfied. The bow looked new and he tightened it a little, then tested it against the strings. The tone wasn't as pure as Peter's fiddle, but it wasn't poor either. Rick walked to the small window in the back of the room. It looked out over a yard filled with rock that gave way to woods. He took a deep breath and then played Ashoka's Farewell. "I know that song!" Warren called. "I watched the whole Civil War series and I made Mustapha watch it, too."

Rick was just finishing when Mustapha walked in the door. He stared at Rick who was making a couple more adjustments to the strings. "Was that you?" he asked.

"Breakfast is ready," Warren announced, and Rick reluctantly laid down the fiddle to take a seat at the counter.

"You could be a professional," Warren told him.

"Not really," Rick shook his head. "My friend, Peter, he's the real star. It's like he breathes music."

"Is that the only instrument you play?" Mustapha sat down and grabbed an orange from the counter.

"No," Rick shrugged. "I can play pretty much anything I can get my hands on. I'm decent with most wind instruments, and I'm okay with guitar and mandolin. I suck at banjo, though," he told them between mouthfuls of food.

"I always figured your Sire had a bit of the devil in him," Mustapha grinned, peeling the orange carefully. "Figures one of his would play the fiddle like Old Scratch himself."

"Don't listen to him," Warren chuckled. "Who taught you?"

"No one in particular," Rick finished his breakfast, then hopped off the stool to carry his plate to the sink.

"Well, I can see your Momma taught you manners," Mustapha nodded. "Sookie was always good for doing right by people."

Rick returned to the counter, "So, you knew my Mom pretty well when she lived here?"

"I knew your Father better," Mustapha popped an orange segment in his mouth. "I worked for him. I was a badass then, and the Viking liked that about me."

Rick rolled his eyes, "I don't know," he whistled, "you look pretty much like a badass now." Warren laughed, but Mustapha ignored him. "Were you always his Day Man?" It was the phrase Pam had told him.

"No. Fact is, I wasn't Eric's Day Man long. I replaced Bobby Burnham. He was with your Father the longest."

"What happened to him?" Rick asked.

Mustapha looked at Warren before saying, "He got himself killed."

"My friend, George Hermosa, says that happens a lot with vampires," Rick said it carefully, not looking up.

"Bobby Burnham wasn't a vampire…" Mustapha said, and Warren interrupted him.

"Accidents do happen, but I wouldn't say that final death happens a lot."

Mustapha made a dismissive noise, but then Warren gave him a look that included an eyeroll directed toward Rick, so he changed direction, "Yeah, not a lot. Just sometimes."

"Smooth," Rick mocked them. He strolled over to pick the fiddle up again, and he played a few bars of an Irish ballad he knew. When the two men looked more relaxed, Rick asked, "Can you tell me about my Mom and Eric? I mean, Mom told me some stuff, but Pam told me other stuff. You were there. What really happened between them?"

Warren was loading the dishwasher, "It's up to you," he told Mustapha.

"I don't have any problem telling Mini Me what I know," and Mustapha grabbed a water bottle from a crate on the floor and moved over to the couch. "Now, I don't know the whole thing, but I can tell you what I saw. Chances are the whole truth is somewhere in the middle of all the stories you'll hear."

"Did he leave her?" Rick asked, anxious to continue now that he'd found someone willing to open up.

"He did," Mustapha nodded, "but your Mom betrayed him first."

"That's not entirely fair," Warren added. "They were already in a bad place when that last trouble came."

"You're right. It really started when Eric's bastard of a Maker showed up," Mustapha leaned back, crossing his arms in front of him. "Appius Livius Ocella! What a waste of space! He's the one responsible for killing Bobby Burnham. He sold Eric to Oklahoma."

"Sold him?" Rick exclaimed. "What? Vampires believe in slavery? But I thought Eric was important! How could someone who was a Sheriff or whatever get sold? Don't they have laws or something?"

"Are you going to let me tell it?" Mustapha's mouth was turned down and Rick forced himself to stop talking. He was practically vibrating with questions, but he sat down on the end of the couch, took a deep breath, and waited.

Mustapha was a good storyteller, his deep voice rolling in a way that made it easy to listen to him. He told Rick about the days after the takeover. He talked about Victor Madden and how difficult the King's favorite made Eric Northman's existence. Mustapha also talked about Sookie Stackhouse. He talked about how kind she could be, and how funny, but he also told Rick about her reputation as a vampire slayer. "It's true," Mustapha replied when Rick protested, "The bartenders at Fangtasia still talk about how she's bad luck to them."

Rick told Mustapha it was hard to wrap his head around the idea of his Mother as a vampire killer. "Your Mom didn't have any problem being strong," Mustapha told him. "Not about plotting, not about taking vampires down, nor doing the deed. She was a legend and folks knew not to mess with her. No one, not even your Father, would push her around. You know she refused to admit she was married to him? She wouldn't share a house or name with Eric Northman. She was Sookie Stackhouse and folks had to respect that."

The woman Mustapha was describing sounded harsh. "Maybe Eric didn't ask her to marry him human style or move in with him," Rick suggested when Mustapha went on to describe about how Sookie chose to live in her family house on Hummingbird Lane with male relatives. "My Mom can be kind of funny about that. If someone doesn't ask her for what they want directly, she won't make the connection. You think everything's arranged, but if you don't spell it out for her, Mom just doesn't get it."

"Yeah, maybe that was part of it," Mustapha went along, "but however it went together, I know it cost Eric big time. No one believed his marriage to your Mom was real. No one except him. Then, when it was really turning to shit and all his supposed friends were turning against him, it turns out your Mom had this super-magic fairy thing that could have fixed everything."

"She did?" Rick's eyes were wide. His Mom had told him she was Fae and that made her supernatural, but Rick had never seen or heard any evidence of it. "So, did Eric ask her to use it?"

"Eric beg for a favor? Hell, no!" and Mustapha shook his head. "I don't know why he didn't. Maybe he figured if she loved him, Sookie should have volunteered it, but she didn't. She didn't even admit she had it, but Eric knew. Your Mom's fairy grandfather made sure Eric knew. Niall Brigant! He was another nasty piece of work and he sure didn't like the idea of your Mom being married to Eric Northman! He thought your Mother should be thinking about mating with some nice fairy man. In the end, Niall got his. Everything went to shit for him, too, and he had to hightail it out of this world altogether."

"So, what happened to it?" Rick asked, "The fairy thing?"

"She used it to save Sam Merlotte," Warren piped up.

"What?" Rick was stunned for a moment, and then he said, "How did that happen?"

"There was a fight." It was Warren who picked up the tale. "The woman Sam was involved with, Jannalynn, she was Were. She was also trying to take over the Pack. She was working with outsiders… anyway, she was caught. Mustapha fought her." Warren glanced at Mustapha, and although they didn't touch, it cleared up any questions Rick had about the nature of their relationship. "It was done in the traditional way, with swords. Mustapha almost had her when Sam Merlotte got in the way. Your Mom, she just fell to her knees, and she wished Sam Merlotte back to life, and that was it. The magic was gone."

"What did Eric do?" Rick asked.

"What could he do?" Mustapha shook his head. "Your Mom may have thought she was doing some good, Christian act, but for Supes? She'd just told everyone where Eric Northman stood in her book, and it wasn't by her side. Eric didn't have any argument left against that contract. All he could do was press for terms that would protect your Mom."

"He still argued for her?" Rick found himself starting to see things a little differently. It still didn't exactly jibe with what he'd heard his Mother say, but he could start to see there might be another side to the story.

"He was pretty mad," Mustapha chuckled. "His house took all kinds of damage that night. If it were me? I would have kicked her to the curb and never looked back, but Eric? Your Mom is under his skin, even to this day, I'm betting. That kind of love is a powerful thing," and Mustapha looked at Warren again.

"I can't think of what he'll do if…" and Warren stopped. He glanced at Rick, embarrassed, and said, "Well, we've been talking so long it's almost lunchtime. Would you like to take a drive out to see where your Mother grew up?"

Rick thought about it. He thought about the hostile stares and thoughts he'd heard last night in the restaurant that belonged to the man his Mother saved. He thought about the way the man, Sam Merlotte, hadn't asked about his Mother much. He knew if someone had saved his life, he would consider himself in debt to them. He would go out of his way to try and repay that debt, but Sam Merlotte wasn't out beating the bushes to find his Mother. Sam Merlotte was standing behind the bar, serving people who hated vampires. "No," Rick shook his head, "I'm good."

He glanced at the fiddle again. It brought him comfort to have an instrument in his hands, and then he thought of Aunt Lora and George. "What I would like is to ask if I can borrow a phone. Mine was stolen… well, I guess confiscated, in New Orleans. I'd like to talk with folks and let them know I'm okay. I have money…"

"Don't even think about it," Warren shushed. He handed Rick his phone and unlocked the screen. "You can take it in the bedroom if you want."

"I'm okay out here," Rick shrugged, "As long as I won't disturb you."

Rick called Aunt Lora at the B&B first. He apologized about a dozen times, but she kept telling him it was okay, although it was hard to understand her, she was crying so hard. When she finally calmed down, she told him that she had heard from Aunt Fran. Amy Ludwig had been to see her. Fran was still in the hospital, but doing better. "That doctor fixed her right up," Lora told him. "Fran will be so happy to hear that we spoke. She asks about you every night."

Lora told him there was no phone in Aunt Fran's room yet, but she expected that would happen soon. "If you can, call me again tomorrow. As soon as I have a phone number for her, I'll let you know," She asked what happened to Rick's phone, and when he told her, she waited while he got pencil and paper and wrote down all her numbers.

"I haven't heard any news about your Mom," Lora told him. Rick wasn't surprised. No one here would have the number at the B&B. No one except his Mom, and maybe Mr. Hermosa, would know to call.

Rick called George next, and that was the harder conversation. George had been put in a car and driven to Mississippi the same night they arrived at the palace. "Something happened two nights ago," George told Rick. "Mom went crazy. She said she knew that Dad was gone, something about her bond. Anyway, when the new King called tonight and told her Dad had been working for him all along, Mom got really angry." George stopped talking and Rick almost thought the connection had dropped when his friend sighed, and said, "I don't think she's going to let us see each other again. She was really mad about the train. I told her it was as much my idea as yours, but she's pretty much blaming you."

Rick felt a tightness in his chest. George was his best friend. They conquered rock walls together, alternately laughing and then concentrating on helping each other. "I heard some Weres say that everyone here is looking for your Dad," Rick said. "We're near Shreveport and someone said they know your Dad and my Mom were around here. I think we're getting close."

"Mom thinks he's dead," George told him, and Rick's friend's voice cracked. "If he wasn't finally dead, he would have found a way to contact us by now. It's been too long."

"He could be a prisoner," Rick said hopefully. "Things are still weird here. I'm staying with…" and Rick realized he hadn't told George who his father was. He hadn't said the words, ' _my Father is Eric Northman_ ,' and for some reason, he felt funny about doing it over the phone. Instead he said, "There are vampires, Weres, some Packmaster, they are all looking for our parents. They are going to turn up. I've got to tell you, I don't think they're dead. I think I would know if she was. I'd feel it somehow."

"Yeah," George sniffed. "I don't believe he's gone, either. Like you said, I just feel like I would know."

"I drank someone's blood," Rick blurted out. "George, I was so freaked out, but then, it was so good."

"My Mom is saying she's done with vampires," George replied. "She said she's done with the lying and violence. She wants a normal life."

It wasn't the response Rick had hoped for. "Do you think she'll start really hating them?" Rick asked, thinking about the people at the restaurant last night.

"No," George said, "No, she's just angry…and sad. She can't stop crying."

"Hang in there," Rick reassured his friend. "They are sending folks out again tonight. They have someone, a tracker, and Pam said she was sure they would figure things out."

"Have you met the King?" George asked.

Rick drew a breath. He hadn't volunteered the information earlier, but now, if he didn't tell the truth, it said things about their friendship. "There's something about that, George," Rick started.

"You going to tell me he's your Father?"

"How did you know?" Rick stammered.

"I told you I knew who your Mother was," George said it in that 'told you so,' way he had. "It's pretty obvious your Father was a vampire. It's not like there were a lot of choices. My Dad told me a story about how he helped your Mom kill some guy that was their boss. He was telling me about the importance of secrecy with vampires. Mom took Maddie and Frank to the store, and it was just the two of us. He told me that seeing your Mom and Eric Northman made him believe that relationships between humans and vampires were possible."

"I heard some stories about what went wrong. It's all sounds complicated. Magic and curses and some fairy shit," and Rick laughed a little, hearing how odd it all sounded.

"My Dad said the reason it didn't work was that your Mom could never get over your Father being a vampire. He said that, in the end, she didn't like vampires much and didn't really want to be part of their world." Rick thought about that. In some ways, it explained how things turned out.

"I think that may be been true," Rick nodded, "but I think she changed her mind. She told me that she wouldn't mind being a vampire, now that I'm becoming one." It wasn't exactly what his Mother had said, but Rick believed it was what she meant. He thought about her face when he asked her if she'd left his Father because he was a vampire.

When he hung up the phone, Rick sat back at the counter. "Do you think my Mother doesn't like vampires?" he asked Mustapha. "I mean, deep down."

"Are you asking if I think your Mother is carrying some kind of prejudice against them?" and Mustapha waited for Rick to nod. "Well, what I think that when I knew your Mother, she believed she accepted vampires. She was quick to take up with vampires and I believe she loved your Father, but, yeah, I think there were some things that were bone-deep that she just couldn't get over. She hated it when he fed. She hated it when he acted more vampire. I don't think she ever gave learning about being a vampire a fair shot. She could have moved in with Eric and stood by his side, but she kept him at arm's length, so, yeah. I think there was some part of her that couldn't really accept what he was."

Warren was making sandwiches and listening intently, "That doesn't mean that's how she feels about vampires now," he added. "Just having you in her life would make a difference. She doesn't mind living with you and you're a vampire, right?"

"The vampire thing with me is pretty recent," Rick said slowly. For a minute, he wondered if his Mother would reject him once she learned about his drinking blood from a person, but then he thought about how she helped him set up his room with a small refrigerator and how she teased him about his fangs. "But, yeah, I know my being a vampire doesn't bother her at all. She accepts me, no matter what."

"You're lucky," Mustapha nodded. "My mother was Were, but when my Father found out what I was, he walked away from our family and never looked back."

"I never knew my Father until now," Rick told him. "My mother told me he was dead, then, later, that he left her. Turns out there was more to the story." Rick chewed his lip, then, figuring there was nothing else to say, he decided to take advantage of where he was. "So, what was it like growing up Were? Did you always know what you were? How do you turn into things?"

"Slow your roll," Mustapha held up his hands, but then he grabbed plates to help Warren, settled them all on the sectional, and started to tell Rick about living Were.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

The drive to Fangtasia didn't take too long. Rick rode in the back seat and Mustapha rode shotgun. The parking lot was loaded with cars and Rick said, "You know I'm underage in pretty much every state there is."

"Bar's not open tonight," Warren told them. When Warren stopped in front of the place, Mustapha leaned over and kissed Warren on the lips. It was the first open display of affection Rick had seen, and it worried him that Mustapha chose now. "I'll be right across the street," Warren told his companion.

"High and out of sight," Mustapha said back, and then he got out the car and pulled the seat forward, so Rick could get out, too. Rick walked beside him to the dark glass door, and it opened as they approached. There were vampires crowded in the entry way. There were vampires crowded in the hallway and there were vampires crowded in the room that served as dance club and vampire bar. They were milling around, but at one end of the room there was a dais and there, sitting under a spotlight, was Eric Northman on what appeared to be a throne. There were vampires in front of him, on their knees.

Pam and the other one, Karin, were standing behind him, just on the edge of the light. Pam leaned forward and said something to Eric, and the King's gaze shifted to him. He raised his hand and gestured to Rick, beckoning him forward.

The vampires around him were looking at Rick with the same intense scrutiny that Jason Stackhouse had used, but this time Rick couldn't feel anything other than their presence all around him. Rick's head felt like there was one huge, glaring dot of vampires and it made him feel light-headed, but he threw his shoulders back and walked toward the dais.

When he stepped up, the vampires who had been there before him stepped down. They were openly curious about him and one licked his upper lip in a way that could only be interpreted as sexual.

"Have you fed today?" Rick's Father asked him.

"Bottled," Rick stammered.

"They treated you well?" and Eric was looking over Rick's shoulder, Rick assumed at Mustapha.

"They're great guys," Rick replied, and he turned around and held his hand out to Mustapha, figuring this was goodbye. "Thanks again for everything," he told the Were. "I really appreciate it. Tell Warren thank you for me, too."

Mustapha glanced down and shook Rick's hand, but he spoke his words to Eric, "Not every day I get to help out an old friend."

Eric stood and laid his hand on Rick's shoulder. It seemed a little thing, but every vampire in the place went very still, almost like they'd been frozen. "I thank you for watching over my son," he said. "I am in your debt."

Rick released Mustapha's hand, and Eric steered him toward Pam. Behind him, it was as if the room had exploded into a thousand snakes, all hissing at once.

"Welcome, Brother!" Pam said clearly, and then she glanced at Karin.

Karin seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact, but then she gave it, "Brother," she said once and nodded.

Eric sat back down on his throne and Rick watched as the vampires queued up, first to bow to Eric Northman, and then to bow to him and his sisters.


	20. Chapter 20 - Where the Road Leads

**Chapter 20 – Where the Road Leads**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

They stood on the dais for over an hour. Vampires kept walking up, bowing, and reciting their pledge of loyalty. As each minute passed, Rick became more agitated. Finally, Pam nudged him, "You need to feed," she hissed. "You're driving me crazy."

Eric didn't turn around, but Rick heard him perfectly well, "Find him someone acceptable and stay with him. We will be done here soon. When he is finished, bring him to the office."

Pam swept her hand, indicating a hallway that led to the back of the club. When Rick didn't move, Pam did, and Rick found himself almost jogging to keep up. As he made his way through the crowd, vampires were openly staring and it made Rick feel bullied. That hadn't happened to him often back in Chester, and Rick's natural instinct was to aggressively confront those who were trying to intimidate him. He was halfway turned when Pam caught his arm, "There will be another time for that," she scolded.

"How did you know what I was going to do?" Rick asked.

"I've seen that look on Sookie's face a hundred times," Pam sniffed, "usually right before she does something stupid that gets her hurt."

"My mother isn't stupid!" Rick growled.

"No," Pam agreed, "no, she's not, but she gets brave when she shouldn't and it makes her write checks her body can't cash." Pam was opening the door to what was unused office space. There were storage racks lining the walls and bar inventory stacked on the desk and floor. Pam leaned against the edge of the desk, inviting Rick to do the same. "Those vampires were hoping you'd challenge them. They can see you're young and they wanted to goad you into making a fledgling's mistake. Even if you're under Eric's protection, if you initiate a challenge, tradition will force Eric to allow you to finish it, and with those jokers? You wouldn't stand a chance! You have nothing to prove, Rick. You're the King's progeny. Ignore them! There's nothing they can do and with Eric claiming you, you're pretty much safe everywhere you go."

There was a noise at the door and Karin walked in with a young man. He looked like he might be a waiter because of the uniform. "Chow time!" Karin sniffed.

Rick eyed the young man, who eyed him right back. Rick felt less than enthusiastic about it. "Are you kidding?" the man asked, looking at Karin. "I thought you were offering."

"You should have asked," Karin snarled. "Instead, you assumed and you know what they say about people who assume. Now, assume the position."

"That's okay," Rick started backing away. "I'm not that hungry. I had some bottled earlier with Mustapha."

"You really are a waste of skin," Karin snapped at Rick.

"Shut up and get him someone willing," Pam growled. Karin didn't look in the least interested. She roughly grabbed the young man and as she turned, she gave Rick a look that was just mean. "There you have it," Pam laughed. "Even vampires torture their siblings! Lucky you! Two older sisters."

Rick was feeling shakier by the minute, but he figured he could hold out. Anything seemed better than trying to do this in front of his evil stepsisters. "I'm serious. I really don't need to feed right now," he repeated.

"You are a total bullshit liar!" Pam called him out. She pulled him to the mirror. "See that? The pale circles around your eyes? They even look a little sunken. That's how any vampire knows when someone is starving for blood. You better learn to recognize that look, because with some vampires, starving means unstable, and you may get in fights with them without trying. They may even try to feed from you if they're in enough pain."

Karin returned with a woman this time. She was a little older, but she smiled at Rick and sat down in the chair. She bared her neck without being asked. Karin smirked and Pam rather pointedly studied her fingernails. Finally, when Rick didn't make any move toward the woman, Pam snapped. "Get on with it! We're missing out on all the good stuff stuck back here."

Rick took a deep breath, stepped behind the woman, and told her, "I'll try to be gentle." Rick's palms were sweating and he felt faint.

"You're just fine," the woman assured him. "But do me a favor and heal me after. I don't need to be running around with bite marks."

Rick dipped his head and drank the way Eric had instructed, pulling first one mouthful and then waiting to hear her heartbeat before pulling another. He took care to withdraw his fangs slowly, and then he licked the woman's neck and watched as the punctures disappeared. "You're okay?" he asked her.

"I'm fine, Sweetie," the woman nodded. She held out her hand to Karin on the way out the door. Karin let her disapproving gaze break from Rick long enough to drop a wad of bills in the woman's hand.

"Feeling better?" Pam sniffed.

"I am," Rick nodded. He turned toward Karin. Her look said it all. She considered him on the same level as something she'd found stuck under her shoe, but Rick made a point of using his charming smile, the one that always got him seconds at dinner. "Thanks for finding her, Karin," he beamed. "She was great!"

"Nice try," Karin huffed. "I've seen all kinds of charm, and yours? The worst!"

"Hey," Rick smiled, "at least you admit I've got some. That's progress!"

Karin started to laugh, then caught herself, turned, and stalked out the door. "You're wearing her down," Pam chuckled, and then she cuffed him on the arm. "Come on, Baby Fang, Eric's waiting."

The office across the hall was different. There was a laptop open on the desk and there were chairs and a couch. Looking around, Rick got the impression that normally a woman sat behind the desk in here, but tonight, it was his Father.

There was a female vampire and a man Rick could tell was a Were sitting in the chairs in front of the desk. There was a third vampire, a slight woman who reminded Rick of Thalia, and she was standing in front of the desk, too.

"I apologize," she was saying and she bowed to Eric. "I received the orders. They were clear. Anyone associated with de Castro was to be eliminated. I put out the word that Rubio was not to be touched and then I headed to his home. There has been trouble here, trouble-makers." Pam touched Rick's arm, steering him to the couch.

Rick had an idea what the woman was talking about. George Hermosa told him takeovers were violent, and his own Mother told him vampires held human life cheap. "I couldn't leave Lily Hermosa undefended. There are vampires here who thrive on death and they would have seen killing her as easy and justified. Those orders gave them all the excuse they needed." The vampire speaking seemed uncomfortable, "There were many deaths here. I have had several calls from Makers already, demanding that I exact retribution from some of those who were more enthusiastic. It will take some time to sort things out. It's not an excuse. I am just trying to explain how things got out of hand."

"I am not blaming you, Indira," Eric looked relaxed, but Rick could see his eyes were hard. "No one knew she was with the team here. Things had to move quickly."

Indira bowed lower, "I knew she was here," she told the King. Rick jumped at the hiss that came from Pam. "Sookie was here. She came to the club with the others, the night before the takeover. I could tell she was uncomfortable being here. When I left to rescue Lily, it didn't occur to me that Sookie would be in danger. I didn't think of her as being part of de Castro's entourage. She…" and the vampire bowed lower, her face almost touching her knees, "She was one of us."

Eric didn't say anything, but Rick felt the tension in the room, coiling like a great snake around all of them. He found he was holding his breath, and then the woman seated in the chair just behind Indira said, "I was in the warehouse the next night. Sookie was not among those I found."

"You should leave," Eric's eyes hadn't left the bowing vampire. "It would be best if you were to take an extended vacation. I will let you know when you should return."

For whatever reason, Pam grabbed Rick's arm. She watched the retreating vampire, and Rick saw that Indira was crying blood. Pam didn't say anything, but a look passed between them and Rick could see they were friends.

"The warehouse was cleaned," the seated vampire continued speaking as if Indira had never been there. "I suspect it was done by whoever killed them. Perhaps they were worried about police. They used bleach, but they were sloppy. There was trace everywhere, and, of course, the bodies remained. Beheaded…" and she stopped talking and waited.

"Could you pick up anything? Any trace she was there?" Eric asked.

"I could smell humans," the female nodded, "and I identified Rubio. He was there."

"The human woman who was killed, the one Angie hired from the temporary service. Her death is going to be a problem," the Were started talking. He hadn't turned around when Rick and Pam entered the office. He seemed tense, but Rick thought it could just be that his shoulders were so large. He looked as if he'd been stuffed in the chair he was sitting in and it must have made him uncomfortable. "The company told us that if they can't reach her soon, they intend to file a missing person report with the police."

"We could just glamour them," Pam spoke up from the couch.

"How many people do you intend to visit?" the Were's words were sharp. He turned so Pam could see how little he thought of her, and that's when he saw Rick. His eyes widened, and Rick watched Pam's satisfied smile. The Were continued to stare for a minute more before turning back to Eric, "We have no idea whether she has family or how connected she was. It will be nearly impossible to erase or change what people think became of her."

"Start with the temporary service," Eric's tone made clear he wanted it done yesterday. "I will need you to arrange a reason to meet their representative after sunset, and I will provide someone to handle it. It doesn't have to be elaborate." Eric's grimace made clear he didn't think much of the Were. "Temporary services are just that. All they have to tell people is that she didn't show up for our job and they don't know where she is. This is not difficult and there is no reason it needs to be traced back to us."

"I'm not your servant. You could handle this yourself," the Were snapped.

"No, you're a Shreveport Packmaster talking to the new vampire King of Louisiana. You live here and our peoples have business together. Felipe de Castro was not your friend. You know me. You know I'll do better by you…or not. You lead your Pack. How do you want to play this?" Rick watched his Father lean back in the chair. He never raised his voice. He didn't sound angry or annoyed. He was simply laying out what any reasonable person should know, and that the outcome didn't matter one way or the other to him, personally.

"I'll arrange it," the Were's voice was sulky.

"Then, we know what we need to do," and Eric grinned as if they were all best of friends.

When the King rose, the two sitting in front of him did, too, and Pam signaled to Rick that they were going. As he started toward the door, the Were paused and bowed to Pam. His eyes rested on Rick, "Who are you?" he asked. When Eric came to stand beside him, the Were said to the King, "I don't know what you're planning on doing with him, but a vampire turned this young is going to cause humans to talk. They notice these things now and it causes problems."

"He won't be young forever," Eric replied, then before the Were could respond, the King said, "Rick, this is Alcide Herveaux. He is the Packmaster of the LongTooth Pack. They are based here in Shreveport. There are other Were Packs in Louisiana. In time, you will meet all of the Packmasters." Then, turning to the Were, he said, "Alcide, this is my son, Rick."

Alcide's eyes narrowed as he stared at Rick's outstretched hand, but the female vampire bowed, "It is a pleasure to meet you," she spoke directly to Rick. "I heard a rumor about you. You are Sookie's as well?"

"She's my Mom," Rick stammered. He stayed focused on the female vampire. The way the Were was staring at him didn't feel friendly. Pam must have thought so, too, because she moved a little closer to Rick's side.

"I'm Heidi," the vampire continued. "I'm a tracker. Don't worry. I'll find your Mom."

"What's wrong, Alcide?" Pam purred, "Cat got your tongue?"

"What is he?" the Packmaster growled.

"Mine," Eric growled, too. For some reason, the way Eric said it made Rick feel safe and he wondered if this was part of what had attracted his mother, but then he figured probably not. His Mom was too independent. She didn't like it when people presumed too much, and she made it clear that she didn't need anyone to take care of her; Susan Hale took care of everyone else.

"It just gets better and better," the Were was grumbling, but he didn't sound angry. "I'll contact Pam when I have a time for the temp people," and he nodded at Pam and then he nodded to Rick, too, before he left.

"You look better," Eric's face was a mask. Rick couldn't tell if he was angry, but he didn't seem like it.

"Yeah," Rick shrugged, "I… I fed." It sounded weird, the words. He glanced up and Eric guessed right.

"That is the right phrase," Eric nodded, then looking at Pam, "You will need to drive yourself. Karin has been given an assignment, but let Thalia know I want her there with us." He glanced at Heidi, "Come with me. We will start at the warehouse. Maybe if we search the area we can determine what direction Rubio took."

Rick half-expected Eric to ask him to come along with him, but he didn't. Instead, the King turned away without saying one word and walked out the back door. Rick's disappointment must have shown because Pam said, "Don't take it personally. He's distracted." When Rick shrugged, she decided to explain further, "Your Mother's disappearance is weighing on him. He's not thinking of anything else."

"I guess that's something," Rick mumbled.

Pam sniffed, "And thank you for letting me know so clearly where I fall in your pecking order. I've been nothing but nice to you and all you can do is let me know you'd rather ride with Eric? You'd break my heart, if I had one."

Years of his Mother's drilling in manners and etiquette kicked in, "I'm sorry," Rick apologized. "I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, that was so worth it!" Pam purred. "You should see yourself! So guilty I could spoon it off you!" She arched her eyebrow, "Useful to know. Very useful," then walking past him, she called, "If you are coming with me you'd better move. Eric didn't say you had to come either, and I could just as easily leave you here. I'm sure Karin would love to spend more time entertaining you."

Rick didn't hesitate and in no time, Pam and Rick were driving through the streets of Shreveport. The wheels never squealed, but the minivan was still going way over the speed limit. Pam was dressed in a pale skirt and a pink sweater set. She had heeled shoes and pearls and with her hair pulled back, she looked like the rich, spoiled trophy wives who came into Chester during Parent's Weekends, but she drove like a bat out of hell. Rick chuckled, and when Pam questioned him, he explained, "You remind me of my Mom. You look one way, but underneath you're something else."

"We're all like that," Pam shrugged. "Welcome to life as a Supe." Rick nodded, but it occurred to him that the same could be said of some humans, too.

They pulled into the parking area in front of a boarded-up building in an industrial section of town. The car Rick knew was his Father's was already there. He didn't see Heidi, the tracker, or his Father, but Rick did see another vampire standing near a second car whom he recognized as Thalia, the vampire who had first taken him to his Father. When Rick and Pam pulled over and got out, Thalia approached them.

"Pam," Thalia bowed. "I heard about Indira. She's lucky he didn't hand her the final death."

"Indira is a strong ally and good friend," Pam replied, "I hope this all blows over quickly, otherwise I'll have to find someone else to run Area 5."

"Area 5? George Hermosa told me about that," Rick interrupted. "He told me my Father was Sheriff here."

"That was true," Thalia wasn't smiling. She stared at Rick in a way that made him feel like a bug under a magnifying glass. After an uncomfortable moment, she turned her head, and walked toward where Eric and Heidi had emerged. They were coming out of the warehouse and Heidi kept walking across the front of the building and then around the corner and back out of sight.

"Thalia is fiercely loyal to Eric," Pam whispered. "For all she is not related by the blood, Thalia would fight to the death for the King."

"She's pretty scary," Rick whistled. "I wouldn't want to meet her in some dark alley."

"Not unless she was on your side," Pam agreed. "Come on," and they walked toward where Eric and Thalia had also disappeared.

Heidi was standing near the side of the building, "Rubio waited here for some time. Perhaps he was hiding…" Heidi walked away from the building, first forward, and then to the side. She was sniffing and peering around her. She walked toward the back of the property where there was a break in the chain link fence. "Sookie and Rubio were both here," she announced. She lowered her head close to the jagged metal. "They brushed against this. Since we can assume Sookie came with the others in Felipe's group, I think it's safe to say that this is where Rubio brought her afterward to get her away."

Eric thought about what he'd seen inside. They had found the vampire who was being interviewed that night. He described how those who came to kill de Castro's people had let him and his team go. He confirmed that there had been two women inside, and identified one as Sookie Stackhouse from her photograph. Eric knew based on the photographs he'd seen that were taken after the killing that Sookie wasn't among those found dead on the warehouse floor.

The vampires responsible for massacring Felipe's audit team and Angie had since fled the state once it became known that the woman who was missing was Sookie Stackhouse, the new King's former wife. The mercenaries decided it was better to be safe than sorry. The circumstances of the divorce between the North Man and Sookie Stackhouse were common gossip, but so was the Viking's agreement to adding extra time on his marriage contract in exchange for his human's protection. The last news of the mercenaries had them heading deep into Zeus territory on their way to Canada and beyond.

It was inconvenient. The killers would have been able to tell Eric exactly what happened that night and whether Sookie was injured before she left with Rubio. Heidi said she wasn't sure, that maybe some trace of the blood inside might have been the telepath's. The garment she was using to establish Sookie's scent was in her pocket.

"They had a car," Heidi told the vampires. "Footprints here, and tire treads." Heidi looked around the weed-filled lot. "We're in the middle of the city. The streets here connect to highways and the neighborhood. They could have gone anywhere."

Rick heard a growl, low and menacing, and he realized it was coming from his Father. The hair on the back of neck was standing and he realized he wouldn't want to meet Eric Northman in a dark alley either.

"It would have been late," Pam reasoned. "Rubio would know they needed to lie low and wait out the day."

"The word identifying him as your agent didn't travel very far," Thalia confirmed to Eric. "I know for a fact that Indira was just ahead of those who were on their way to execute Lily Hermosa. Rubio had no idea that the thugs would go after his wife, but he would have known to be cautious about showing himself. Even believing his wife was safe, he still wouldn't have taken Sookie to his house because he wouldn't have wanted to draw danger there either." Thalia gave Eric a direct stare, "I also know Rubio didn't have any safe houses. He was supporting his human wife's three children. Lily and Rubio sent the children away to private schools and it was taking all of his disposable income to keep them there."

"Besides, if he had a safe house and they reached it, we would have heard from them by now," Pam reasoned.

"So, where would he take her?" Heidi asked.

"Sookie has nowhere left here," Eric seemed to be lost in thought. "She couldn't trust her brother. He hates vampires and would have denied Rubio shelter. She wouldn't have gone to Merlotte…"

"Mom told me her old house is somewhere around here. Wouldn't she have just gone there?" Rick piped up. The vampires turned to look at him.

"Your mother sold her house," Eric explained.

"I know, she told me that she did sell it, but she also told me that if she ever wanted it back, she was pretty sure she could have it," Rick replied. "Mom sounded like the house was kind of waiting for her."

"How did she know that?" Pam exclaimed. She turned toward Eric, "I bought the house. I kept it exactly how it was, furniture, landscaping, everything. I didn't even change the locks. Cataliades arranged everything."

"Why did you do that?" Eric asked his daughter.

"For you," Pam said simply, then she turned back to Rick, "but that still doesn't explain how Sookie knew about it."

Rick shrugged, "Uncle Desmond told her."

"Uncle Desmond?" the Viking's eyebrow lifted, but he didn't look pleased. He turned to Thalia, "Do you know where is 'Uncle Desmond' at the moment?"

Thalia checked the time on her phone, "The demon should be in California driving to see the Clan Chief." Thalia was smiling, and it wasn't pretty. She punched at her phone and held it to her ear. When the connection was made, she handed the phone to Eric.

The King walked away from where they were standing. Rick could tell he was talking to someone, but all he could make out was a sound that was more hiss than words. It went on for awhile, and then Eric walked back, tossed the phone to Thalia, and said, "We are going to Bon Temps."

Rick found himself watching Eric, hoping the vampire would look his way and invite him to come with him in his car, but it didn't happen. Instead, Eric beckoned to Heidi again. The Viking didn't even glance at Rick. Instead, he blurred to his car vamp speed, and Heidi did, too. They were in the car and roaring away, leaving Rick just standing there until Pam said, "Well, are we going?"

"He's an asshole," Rick grumbled, following Pam.

"It's why we love him!" Pam chuckled, but when they got into the van, Rick turned to look out his window again. "You're pouting!" she accused him.

"It's my Mom!" Rick said, not turning around. He felt tears prickling and his throat was tight. "I guess I thought if I found my Dad, he would help me, but he is not," and Rick felt his fear starting to choke him. "He doesn't want me around at all."

"You know I can feel him, right?" Pam reminded the tween. When Rick didn't respond, Pam sighed. She was on the road now, her speed winding past seventy as they swung up the ramp and on to the interstate. "Believe me, he knows you're here! He's feeling…"

"Distracted, yeah, you said," Rick could hear the whining in his voice.

"Afraid," Pam told him. Rick did look at her then. "He's afraid, and it's the first time I've felt that from him in hundreds of years."

"Does he think my Mom is dead?" Rick asked, and his stomach churned.

"I don't think so," Pam shook her head. "But whatever he's thinking, it's making him uncertain, and that's new territory for Eric. You're new territory." Pam's smile was grim, "Try to see this from his perspective. Eric thought he knew what was lying ahead of him: a takeover, a kingdom. But now? It's possible that Eric could finally get everything he's ever wanted, and it could be he's worried that it will be like before. His happiness will be just at his fingertips and something will happen to yank it all away."

"He wasn't happy before?" Rick asked.

"He loves your Mother," and Pam looked back to the road.

As the miles started to move past, Pam started to hum a song, and Rick pulled out his pennywhistle. "You want me to play?" he asked. When Pam nodded, he deliberately chose quieter songs, ballads and lullabies. The making of music allowed him to feel calmer, too. He thought about his Mother and things Aunt Fran had said over the years. He found that his playing was like a prayer, wishing that at the end of tonight he would find her and she would hug him, the way she always did, and everything would be all right.

It didn't seem that long before they were turning off the highway and driving through quieter country. The headlights of Thalia's car were behind them, but the tail lights of Eric's car had disappeared some time ago. Pam slowed and took a turn off the road. After a bit, she came to a fork in the road. There was a cemetery in front of them, the headstones gleaming dully in the moonlight. Pam turned left, and after a short drive, turned into a crushed stone driveway. They pulled forward until they reached an area in front of a small, two-story house and parked next to Eric's car. Rick noticed the house was painted in some bright color and the light on the front porch was on.

Rick and Pam got out of the van. Thalia had pulled up behind them and she got out of her car, too. Rick looked at the house, "Is this where…"

"It's your Mother's house, yes," Pam walked to the front steps. The screen door was shut, but the front door was open. There were lights on in the house and Rick figured Eric and the tracker were already inside. Rick reluctantly followed Pam up the front stairs. There was no furniture on the porch, but there was a porch swing suspended from rafters.

Eric walked briskly out the front door, "She was here!" he told Pam. "Heidi smelled her inside."

"And Rubio?" Pam asked.

"He was here, too. The lights were on when we arrived. It must have been them. They must have thought they would return, otherwise, Sookie would have turned the lights out."

"There's no food," Heidi walked out onto the porch as well. "It's likely they needed supplies."

Eric nodded, "Sookie knows the places around here that are open. Maybe they went to a grocery store."

Rick wandered past the talking vampires and into the house. The furniture inside was old and it had that shabby, welcoming look, like the furniture in their family apartments in Chester. Rick wandered through to a kitchen that stretched across the whole back of the house. The cabinet doors were all closed and the counters were covered with a light film of dust. There was a heavy, iron skillet hanging on a hook in the wall, and Rick could imagine his Mother standing at the stove, using the skillet to cook her chicken.

Rick turned around and headed back into the front room. He noticed the fireplace that was located on the far wall. It looked well-used. There was a chair and it reminded him of his Mom's chair at home, the one draped with that old, ugly afghan. His throat hurt as he thought about how she looked, settled next to the blaze, the afghan covering her knees. She told him his Grandmother had made the blanket, and he could see it here, making this place his Mother's home.

"It was her favorite place." Rick spun around. Eric Northman was standing so close, Rick almost hit him. Rick stepped back, so he could see the vampire properly. Eric wasn't looking at him, though, he was staring at the fireplace. "She liked me to start the fire," he said. "We would read. She knew some of the books so well, she could almost recite them from memory."

"Jane Austen," Rick said.

The vampire looked down at him then, "Persuasion," he nodded.

"And "Wuthering Heights"," Rick bit his lip.

"I never understood her obsession with Heathcliff," and Eric smiled.

"Do you think she's dead?" It was the question that kept repeating over and over again in Rick's head.

The vampire's eyes tightened, and then he seemed to make an effort to appear more relaxed. "There's no reason to think that," he sounded confident. "Your Mother… She is resourceful…clever." He looked back at the fireplace. "She is brave. She fights. I think if she were dead, I would know." Eric didn't look so confident at the moment, but still it made Rick feel better.

"I think I'd know, too," Rick breathed. "And I don't feel it. I don't think she's gone." Rick looked around again, "Are we going to wait here for her to return?"

"No," Eric shook his head. "Thalia and Pam are considering what to do next. Heidi says your Mother hasn't been in this house in two days, maybe three. Pam is making calls to check with local people Sookie might have contacted. Thalia has left another message for the demon. It's possible that your Mother and Rubio decided to drive back to where you come from."

"Chester?" Rick didn't think that was right.

"Where is Chester?" Eric asked.

"Massachusetts," Rick told him without hesitation. "It's not like here, although where we live, it does kind of look like this inside," and he gestured toward the furniture and the small knick knacks around them.

"Sookie living in the cold north," and Eric smiled, but then his face sobered, "I can feel that it is important that we find her soon." Eric stalked back outside to stand on the porch. and Rick followed. They stood together, side by side, looking out at the tree line that surrounded the yard.

"It seems hard to think of my Mom living here," Rick said. "I can understand why she said it was pretty lonely. At home, Mom's always got folks around. She says she likes the noise they make."

"When she lived here, your Mother told me how important this place was to her," Eric seemed far away again. "Her telepathy wasn't so well controlled then, and she needed the quiet to recover. Still, she seemed to have a number of friends." He looked at the boy standing beside him, "She never told me she was lonely. She told me she needed her independence and I honored that. She had no desire to…" and then the vampire looked away.

Rick had a pretty good idea that Eric was going to say something he thought Rick would take as a slight, so he shared what his Mother had told him. "Mom said she didn't get to see you much." He remembered the way his Mother's face had grown wistful, sitting on his bed in Chester, talking about the vampire standing next to him. "I guess you were too busy with work back then to have a lot of time for her. She did tell me that when you had time and you were together that she was happy."

"Your Mother has an interesting memory," Eric's voice was clipped, and Rick was pretty sure the vampire was angry. "Your Mother told me she wished to maintain her freedom. I wished to spend more time with her. I wished her to live in my house." Eric's eyebrows drew together. "There were complications. Still, she did not lie. When we were together, we were happy." Eric's eyes moved to the porch swing. "I believe you were made there," he said, and then glanced at the boy.

Rick couldn't help himself. He looked at the swing and then rolled his eyes to hide his embarrassment. "Didn't need that image," he mumbled to cover his discomfort, and then purposefully looked away.

To distract himself from thoughts of his Mother having sex with Eric, Rick concentrated on the dots of light he couldn't stop from forming in his brain. He focused his attention on the dots that moved on an imaginary grid, dots he knew represented vampires. Rick thought about each of the glowing dots and put names and places to each of them.

"Do you think my Mom and Mr. Hermosa would have stopped to talk with the vampires down the road?" Rick asked.

"What vampires?" Eric asked and Rick gestured in the direction of the cemetery they'd passed.

"Over there," he told the King. "I can 'see' them."

Pam was suddenly standing next to them on the porch. She was looking at Eric in a way that had Rick wondering if somehow the King summoned her.

"Is Bill Compton still living in the house on the other side of the cemetery?" Eric asked.

"He is," It was Thalia who answered the question. "I've been keeping tabs on him. He never abandoned the house, although he does not interact with the humans here as he once did. He hasn't changed much, the same sniveling boot licker he always was. My reports are that he runs some kind of software business out of the house now. He keeps the occasional playmate, but he hasn't caused any trouble. de Castro hated him. He thought Compton was purposely screwing up to cheat the King out of income."

Eric glanced toward Rick, "You're sure there is more than one vampire there?"

When Rick nodded, Eric turned to the others, "There is no reason to assume that Compton would mean Sookie harm. Unless something has changed, it's likely to be the opposite. He wanted her and he thought that when I left she would return to him. He was disappointed."

Rick's eyes widened. His mother had only talked about one other boyfriend before his Father, and it hadn't occurred to Rick that it might be another vampire. Rick was still finding it strange to think of his Mother as having dated or having been married at all. In all the time he'd known her, his Mother hadn't had any real romantic attachments.

Pam and Thalia started moving toward their cars. "No," Eric hissed, "It is better to walk there. There is no need to alert Compton to our visit." Rick took a step to join Pam and Thalia, but strong arms grabbed him from behind and before he could protest, Rick was in the air, the wind rushing past his face.

"I'm flying!" he squeaked.

"Yes," said the voice near his ear, "but it's time to stay quiet." Eric landed them behind a huge tree, not far from the front door of a classic Southern house. There were no lights on, but Rick didn't need them. The location of the vampires inside was playing out like moving lights behind his eyes.

Eric became very still. Rick started to ask a question, but Eric signaled him to silence, and then pointed toward the parking area. Rick saw two cars in the driveway, a Ford Focus and slightly larger car. "He has company," Eric whispered. "It may be Rubio."

Pam and Thalia were suddenly there, standing by them. Heidi came next, her movement a blur. Eric waited for them to settle, then asked Rick in a low voice, "Tell me again how many vampires are inside."

"Two," Rick whispered. "One is walking around upstairs. The other is staying put, near the back," and Rick pointed toward the right side of the first floor.

"Circle the house," Eric instructed the other vampires. "Compton is probably the one upstairs. He may try to escape through the windows or off the porch," and Rick found his eyes drawn to the wide furnished porch that ran across the front of the second story. "Don't kill him!" Eric was cautioning the others. "I want to question him."

The Viking told Thalia, "You will come inside. If Sookie is in there, Compton may have hidden her."

"You think my Mom's inside?" Rick was suddenly afraid. Although he didn't need light to see, he knew his Mom did. The thought of her in that dark, silent house made his heart beat hard and his palms sweat.

"I don't know. I can no longer feel her." It seemed like an odd thing for Eric to say, but Rick didn't think the vampire was being sarcastic. Instead, his voice was calm. "But if Rubio is here, then it is likely that Sookie is here, too, or close by." The Viking laid his hand on Rick's shoulder. "You must stay here," and he brought his face close to Rick's. "If Compton has her, he will fight to keep her. If you get in the way, you could be hurt."

"She's my Mom!" Rick hissed in frustration. "I want to help!"

The Viking's hand was against his face, the palm cradling his cheek. It was a surprising move and Rick stood taller. "You are so like her," Eric said, his voice husky. "I will tie you to the tree if I must, but it would be best if you did as you are told. Wait here until I call you. Don't endanger us by forcing us to defend you. We will call once things are secure."

Eric stared, and the other vampires stared, too. Rick realized they were waiting for his answer, so he nodded once.

"Maybe we should make him promise," Pam drawled.

"I agreed, didn't I?" Rick snapped.

Eric eyed him, but didn't insist on Rick saying the words. In an instant, they were gone, blurs moving toward the house. Thalia stopped at the front door, and Eric flew up to the second story porch. Rick could see Pam in the front yard. He assumed Heidi had gone around to the back of the house. Rick watched them move then, entering the darkness.


	21. Chapter 21 - Convergence

**Chapter 21 - Convergence**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

' _When did everything slip from my grasp?_ ' Eric wondered. The easy answer was to point at his order to wipe out de Castro's people. That seemed the most logical explanation for why he was standing here, on Bill Compton's porch. ' _Too easy_ ,' Eric chided himself. There had been other times when existence was difficult, but that was back in the days before he came to the United States. Since coming here and entering the service of Queen Sophie-Ann, life was palatable, even comfortable, one thing falling into place after another. Eric's Maker seemed a distant memory. Eric was valued. His reputation as both fearsome and fiercely loyal grew. Eric's life as courtier and then as Sheriff rewarded him with advancement, and he basked in his growing prestige among his peers. It was a good life but, if Eric was totally honest, it was also a life that had started to bore him.

Then, he met Sookie Stackhouse.

It would be easy to place his troubles at her feet, too. Almost from the beginning, Eric had been intrigued by her. She was different. She challenged him. She made him anxious to see her again, just to hear what new adventure or odd turn of phrase would tumble from her lips. His world regained its flavor and he looked forward to each rising, all because of this perplexing, unconventional woman.

It was true that trouble followed her. His companions told Eric to give her up, but the more he saw of her, the more he was drawn to her. By the time his Maker returned, Eric realized he was tied to Sookie by more than the bond they forged. Even if she hadn't bonded with him, the Viking would have been bound to her. It was a humbling feeling, and his progeny and friends teased him about it.

'No,' he scolded himself, 'Don't blame the past. That is done. Where you stand is now.' Eric focused back on the events of the past week. Coming to Louisiana to confront Felipe may have started as Stan Davis' idea, but Eric agreed. It seemed providential but, now, Eric could see that coming here was the tipping of the first domino that fell, one thing leading to the next until he found himself in this place. Four nights ago, he had risen in the safe house in New Orleans and marched to the palace, sure of his victory. Now, he wasn't sure of anything, except the unsettling feeling that his Sookie had somehow become lost to him again.

Eric remembered the night after he defeated de Castro when he looked out over the City, thinking of what could be. As he imagined it, Eric sat in Sophie-Ann's throne and Sookie Stackhouse walked down the aisle, approaching him. She smiled, and the fine webbing that was just forming beside her eyes came to life as her lips curved up just for him. She looked at him as she had in Denver and she repeated her words. She told him she loved him and that she was his. He imagined teasing her, just to see how her lip would jut out and her eyes would snap. It had been a pleasant dream, a way to focus on a happy future, a distraction from the blood-letting that continued around him.

For over twelve years, Felipe de Castro had turned vampire against vampire in this territory. His policies had bred anger and distrust, and the blood feuds that were being settled now had more to do with personal vendettas than politics. Karin texted that first night, confirming victory in Baton Rouge. She told him she intended to finish mopping up and would join him after sunset the following night. Thalia contacted him next, letting him know she'd finished cleansing Lafayette and was on her way to New Orleans.

The only Area that was reporting continued unrest was Area 5. Indira had handed her authority over to her subordinates and abandoned her Area. Eric wasn't sure why she left her post at this critical time, but he suspected Rubio Hermosa's disappearance was at the heart of this mystery.

As that first night progressed, the Viking forced himself to ignore the cries of those being tortured and finally ended. Free reign for two nights was what he promised those loyal to him, and Eric honored that promise. He knew it was the first of many pledges he would make to his new vassals, and he prayed his future commands would be far different than those being carried out under his name this night.

There was a knock and Desmond Cataliades was dragged before him. The demon had been found in the Palace fighting alongside Felipe's people. Eric sustained serious damage in his fight with Felipe and his healing was painful. Eric now realized how much he allowed that physical discomfort to influence how he handled the demon. If he had listened to Cataliades' explanations instead of cutting him off, Eric realized he might have found out about Sookie sooner. He could have shown patience, but he had chosen not to.

In past, Desmond Cataliades rarely helped Eric. When the attorney did offer his aid, it was only because it was aligned with helping Sookie Stackhouse. Eric knew there was some tie between the demon and Sookie's Fae family, but he still didn't know exactly what it was. What Eric did know was that when he asked the demon to find a loophole in the contract that tied him to the Oklahoma Queen, the demon failed. To this day, Eric wondered if Mr. Cataliades really tried, or if the attorney purposely overlooked some clause or codicil that might have released him.

The demon was pushed so hard he fell, sprawling on the floor. Eric could see he'd been roughed up, and it caused the Viking some grim satisfaction. When Desmond tried to talk, Eric had Maxwell Lee step on the attorney's neck, keeping the pressure there until Cataliades' face started to turn blue. Pam listed the crimes the attorney was accused of committing. Twice more Cataliades tried to protest, and twice more Maxwell cut off his airway, leaving him gasping and sputtering.

After the list of wrong-doing was read out, Eric squatted down next to the attorney's face. The Viking's wounds screamed, and he felt the scabbing tissue on his chest part, twin trails of blood snaking down toward his waistband. "Why shouldn't I kill you?" he hissed.

"Because I'm of more use to you alive than dead," the attorney rasped.

"I don't believe it," Pam sneered. "I don't recall one occasion when this pile of shit has ever done you a truly good turn."

Eric turned to give Maxwell the order that would end the attorney when something made him hesitate. He thought of how Mr. Cataliades did help Sookie. Eric could see her face as she spoke of the demon, and the thought of destroying any link to her was as painful as the wounds pulling at his body.

"Sophie-Ann found him useful," Eric said out loud. Any vampire who lived in the Palace in those days knew the former Queen was fond of Desmond. Eric saw Maxwell and Pam's grudging acceptance and he knew he'd chosen his words wisely.

"I give you your life," and Eric cocked his head to the side, watching the demon's one open eye watch him. The Viking looked at Pam and then cut his eyes to the mantel piece. Pam handed her Maker the box that was resting there. "These are de Castro's fangs," Eric turned the box slowly, making sure the demon saw it. "If you wish to redeem yourself, you'll deliver them to the head of Narayana Clan. Tell him that Nevada is now a Kingdom without a King. Warn him to stay within his own territory, or I will come to take back what's rightfully mine."

"And after I've delivered your message?" the demon asked.

"I don't care," Eric shrugged, straightening with an audible sigh. "Return. Stay. Go elsewhere. What you do is no longer important to me."

"Then I will return," the demon struggled to his knees. "I wish to…"

Another wound broke loose and Eric hissed as the pain seared through him, "Get out!" he shouted. He ordered the demon held somewhere secure until transport to Nevada could be arranged. Pam followed the guards out the door, returning with more donors. She pushed Eric back to his bed and the Viking's healing began again.

Before falling into his day death, Eric texted Alcide Herveaux. He made a personal plea to the Packmaster for help in tracking down Rubio Hermosa. Then Eric received more good news.

Indira left a message that Heidi, the Tracker, was returning to Area 5. Heidi had been living in Las Vegas, commanded to relocate there by Felipe de Castro. Now she was free and Heidi was returning to Louisiana. Indira's message went on to convey the Tracker's congratulations as well as her own on Eric's successful takeover. Indira's message told Eric that Lily Hermosa was safe in Mississippi. She gave Eric information about when she expected to return to Shreveport and there was the problem.

Indira had acted from good intentions, but she abandoned her Area in time of war to safeguard one human woman. The irony was not lost on Eric but, still, Indira could have sent another, a subordinate to do this thing. The fighting in Area 5 had continued beyond what was necessary and Eric blamed Indira. Her actions showed a lack of judgment, and Eric knew there would need to be consequences if the vampire was to be permanently promoted to Sheriff.

By the third rising after the takeover, things were returning to normal. The palace was being cleansed. Broken items were removed and the stains of battle were wiped and scrubbed from floors and walls. The Federal Registry was contacted and the donor lair in the basement was stripped bare and then re-opened, the hard couches favored by the government replacing the beds and mattresses that were there before.

Eric called Russell Edgington. He confirmed he had control of both Louisiana and Arkansas, and the official announcement was sent to all vampire monarchs. Eric Northman was King.

Stan Davis was the first congratulatory call Eric received from a fellow monarch. Stan told the Viking he'd always known that Eric would succeed. He offered to send troops to support Eric's people, but Eric declined. They laughed, knowing Eric had seen through the Texas King's flimsy excuse to place armed spies on Louisiana soil.

The Texas monarch's call was followed by others. By the time Karin came to him, Eric's night had become a dance of politics; flattering on one hand while making deals with the other. It was nearing daybreak and the Viking's wounds ached. Eric was certain that at least one of the blades Felipe had wielded was dipped in silver. It was the only thing that could explain his slow healing.

Pam joined them then, bringing more reports from the far-flung Areas and fresh news of the search for Rubio. The other spies were accounted for. One in Arkansas was caught up in the confusion. She had met her final death, but all the others were well, all but Rubio.

Eric dreaded the idea that he might have lost his friend in the confusion but, as the hours stretched without any further news, the probability that Rubio had met his final death was becoming more likely. The Viking trusted Rubio, and he wanted to include him in his plans. If Hermosa was finally dead, it would leave a hole in many ways.

While there were other challenges that presented themselves that night, none had been a true surprise, that is, until Thalia marched into his room, followed by the tall, pale boy.

Eric had managed to spend the past forty-eight hours focused on the work at hand. He had not spent more than an hour of that time thinking about his former wife, but that ended when the blond, gangly vampire held out his hand, introduced himself as Eric's son, and then passed out in a spectacular fashion.

Although Eric had perfect recall, he found he was struggling to register just what this boy had told him. Nothing about him made sense. The boy seemed vampire, but he was warm and he breathed. Of the many mysteries this boy presented, his physical peculiarities were the only things Eric was prepared to truly explore, so Eric did what he always did when faced with some new species, he called Doctor Amy Ludwig.

Pam picked the boy up off the floor and placed him on a couch. A son! The Viking tried to remember the sons he'd sired in his human days, but he had no clear memories of them. They were all so young when Appius took him. This boy didn't smell of him. He seemed no more connected to Eric than the ghost sons of his past. There was no blood tie calling him as Karin and Pam's blood called. There was nothing but a few words and the way the boy's face felt oddly familiar.

When Amy arrived, she explained in small, clear words the relationship between the boy and Sookie Stackhouse. When she finished repeating what she knew of the boy's history, Doctor Ludwig explained how and why Eric was related to the boy. It seemed impossible. Eric believed the stories of half vampires to be just that, but the Doctor was certain. Pam laughed out loud, declaring the boy was Eric's miniature twin, and Karin scowled her disapproval.

It took Eric several precious minutes to gather his thoughts. The boy was removed, taken to recover in another part of the Palace, but not before Eric gazed on his face. He couldn't see the resemblance Pam assured him was crystal clear. He was tempted to give the boy blood but, as he watched, the rising bruise on the child's cheek healed and then disappeared. For all the boy's body felt human, this boy was a vampire. Eric could hear his heartbeat and he swore he could hear the blood rushing through the boy's veins.

Again, Eric considered coating the boy's tongue with his own blood. It would allow Eric to question him later and know if he was lying but, in the end, the Viking couldn't bring himself to do it. To force blood on another vampire without their permission was against all custom and courtesy. Eric resolved to wait until the boy woke, which Amy Ludwig assured him would happen soon.

It took half an hour from the time he sent Pam and Karin away to the time Ludwig returned. Eric used that time to think. He walked over to his laptop and navigated first to the photograph he'd found on the Narayana Summit webpage. It showed Sookie Stackhouse. She was laughing and her eyes were tilted up. Eric touched the screen to trace the line of her lip, then flipped over to the Palace surveillance footage of the boy.

Damphir! They had made a child before Eric was forced to leave for Oklahoma. Sookie knew this boy was his and she hadn't told him. Eric thought again about Denver. He closed his eyes and relived every second from the moment they collided in the hallway until the moment he left her. He remembered seeing the evidence that she had born a child, thinking, believing, she had welcomed another man into her life.

She told him she loved him. She told him she missed him. Perhaps it was more than words. For the first time, Eric Northman felt hope and just as quickly, he strangled it. ' _Think!_ ' he warned himself. ' _You have been down this road before! She hid this from you. She didn't think you were important enough to let you know_.' Even though Eric's pragmatic brain told him that finding a way to share this information would have been dangerous, that there was very little he could have done, the fact that she hadn't tried picked at his pride. Eric hardened his heart, telling himself that clearly in important ways, his Lover and former wife hadn't changed, despite the words she used.

When the Doctor returned, she told him the boy was exhausted. Talking would have to wait until tomorrow's rising. Eric listened as Amy told him everything she knew. He listened to her describe Fran Miller, the witch who protected Sookie. Amy wasn't sure if Sookie and the boy lived in Boston or elsewhere. She described what she found when she examined Rick and she answered all Eric's questions about hybrids. She told Eric what she'd learned, having treated Damphirs in the early days of her practice. He couldn't help laughing when Amy described Sookie feeding the boy blood with a turkey baster. It was a move only Sookie Stackhouse could have imagined, but then Eric sobered. "I am grateful that Sookie wanted the boy to meet me," Eric said out loud, "even if she meant to delay that meeting by several more years."

"I don't think she could have waited that long," Amy shook her head. "Even if this," and she looked around Eric's new surroundings, "hadn't happened. I told her that boy needed to be around vampires. I don't think he's even met one until now."

Eric's eyes narrowed, "I'm not surprised Sookie kept the boy a secret. What I don't understand is why you didn't inform me about the boy as soon as you left Boston." And there it was. Sookie might harbor her doubts about the worthiness of vampires, but Doctor Ludwig should not have similar issues. "Surely, you thought I had a right to know," Eric growled, leaning forward.

"Well, you can save your bullying for someone else, King Man!" the Doctor snapped. "It's part of any doctor's job to keep her patient's secrets but, for the record, I would have held Sookie to her two-year promise. If this hadn't happened, I would have told you myself, whether she decided to come clean or not. Rick is growing quickly. He needs fresh blood, not that bagged shit he's feeding on. He doesn't need more than other vampires, just feeding more frequently. Other vampires don't have to physically grow on top of transforming. He does."

"Why…" and then Eric didn't finish his question. He didn't need to ask why Sookie wasn't providing her child with donors. He knew. What he didn't know was why Sookie Stackhouse's son had come to find him ahead of the schedule. There was something missing, and Eric knew it was important.

Eric thought again of Sookie. He wondered how she reacted when she realized her son was growing into a vampire. Sookie Stackhouse might tell Eric she loved him. She might enjoy spending time with vampires, but there was something about the fundamental truth of who and what a vampire was that didn't sit quite right with the telepath. Feeding, the need to mate when feeding, the urge to violence. There were so many characteristics, some subtle, some not, that were bag and baggage of being vampire, and Sookie rejected them all. Deep down, she wanted vampires to be stronger, more impervious, versions of humans. Eric believed in his heart that Sookie never truly accepted vampires, never truly accepted him for what he was. It was that prejudice that caused her to place blinders over her eyes, making her believe that bagged blood was enough. Eric knew Sookie would never purposefully harm her own child, but he also knew her capacity to see things as she wished them to be.

Eric prayed that the rebellious bravery he saw on the boy's face before he crumpled was what drove him to Louisiana. He prayed that this child was so like his Sookie, that curiosity drove him here to find his Sire. Eric prayed it was his Lover's sense of adventure that inspired her son and nothing else.

Pam rejoined him before dawn. She brought the answer to Eric's question, and it confirmed his worst fears.

Pam had talked with Lily, Rubio Hermosa's wife. It had taken some pressuring but, in the end, she was given permission to speak with George, Rubio's adopted son as well. George was the boy who accompanied Rick into the Palace earlier tonight. Pam told Eric the boys knew each other from school. They were both attending some private academy up north and George made clear he was Rick's friend.

It was George who told Pam the story of how Rick received the text message from his Mother, and how they jumped the train from New York to New Orleans. He told Pam that their plan was to come to the palace and ask the vampires for help in finding and rescuing their parents. George was sure that Sookie Stackhouse was with his Father, and he told Pam that Rick was sure, too.

"It never occurred to me that Sookie would be here," Pam told a shocked Eric. "Of all times, why would Felipe bring her here? Why did he bring in audit teams?"

"Plausible deniability," Eric mumbled, his brain racing. "We know de Castro's real purpose was to invade Texas. He was just waiting for news of Stan's assassination to make his move. Felipe was smart, though. If everything failed, he could tell people his real purpose in being here was to investigate why his revenues were failing. The audit teams stationed around the state were his cover story. Sookie being here was just bad luck," and saying the words solidified Eric's bad feeling.

Eric stalked back to the window. It was likely that Sookie and Rubio were together, but Rubio was missing, and too much time had passed. There were a series of possibilities that played out in Eric mind and none of them ended well.

"The reports from Area 5 are not good," Pam said carefully, confirming the gloomy direction Eric's thoughts were taking. "I'm hearing that all of Felipe's people in the Area were killed."

Eric nodded. He went back to his computer and opened pictures that had been sent by Alcide Herveaux's people. The photographs showed what the Weres found. Eric focused on the photos from inside a warehouse located on the outskirts of Shreveport. The images were graphic, but Eric carefully examined each one, expanding them so he could see each face and account for each body.

"She was most likely with this group," Eric told Pam. "If Hermosa's child is right and Sookie was with Rubio, this is the only group that makes sense." Eric scanned the email report that accompanied the photographs. "The Weres couldn't detect any particular scent signatures. Apparently, someone was there ahead of them, spreading chemicals to cover the blood and picking up. There was vampires' clothing found outside. The dead humans were all inside." Eric opened the folder with scanned images from the vampires' wallets. Angie's license was there as well as other vampires Eric didn't recognize with Las Vegas addresses.

"Angie was a bitch," Pam spat. "Good riddance!"

"Rubio's license is not here," Eric noted, and then he told Pam what Amy Ludwig told him about Fran Miller and the wards the witch had placed around Sookie. "Sookie is probably in trouble," Eric told Pam, "but Amy thinks that it would be hard for anyone to permanently damage her. If Rubio is with her, then it's possible they are still safe." He ran his hand through his hair, "They need to be found."

"So," and Pam placed her hand on his shoulder to stop his pacing, "Indira is going to keep you informed? She'll send you regular reports?"

"I can't wait for that," Eric growled. "I am headed there myself."

"To Shreveport?" Pam shook her head, "Eric! You are newly made King. Things here are not settled! If you leave the capital, what will keep some greedy, ambitious vampire from using the confusion to stake his or her own claim? You can't abandon the Palace! What's worth that risk? A spy? Sookie? Think, Eric! There are others there capable of finding her. Didn't Indira say Heidi was returning? She is the greatest tracker among us. What more could you do? Why do you need to go?"

"Indira abandoned her post during the fighting," Eric snapped. "I doubt her. I can't trust her with this. I am doing what I must," and Eric didn't bother explaining any further. Instead, he pushed his intent toward Pam through their bond and he did it with a finality that told Pam he would not be discussing this further.

Reluctantly, Pam helped made the arrangements. Maxwell Lee was tapped to act as Second while the King traveled. Eric watched the tall vampire carefully as he gave him instructions. Under the right circumstances, the Viking could see that Lee might try to betray him, but the takeover was still fresh and the sense of success Maxwell was feeling was fresh as well. Russell Edgington had declared Eric King, a move that guaranteed anyone who tried to supplant him would be met by some resistance from the other monarchs. Eric didn't think Maxwell Lee had the kind of balls it would take to entertain betrayal. Eric's read of the vampire was that if Maxwell Lee did become so inclined, it would be later, making Lee more of an 'at last' kind of vampire.

When Eric rose the next night, Amy Ludwig came to see him again. She had spent the day with Rick Hale. Eric struggled with that name. In his head, he thought of the boy as 'Sookie's son.'

After speaking with Rick, the doctor was no longer so sure about the strength of the magic protecting Sookie Stackhouse. Sookie's son told the doctor that the witch, Fran, suffered a stroke. Rick believed his Aunt Fran was in a hospital and in poor health. "Go to Boston," Eric ordered. "Find out what you can. If the wards were damaged or destroyed, you must let me know." The doctor disappeared in an instant and Eric stepped up his preparations to travel north.

Eric texted and made calls, pulling favors and using threats to put things in motion. Eric alerted all his contacts that Sookie Stackhouse's name was to be added to the top of the list for every searcher and tracker in Area 5. He shared what he knew, that Sookie might have been with Rubio Hermosa, and that any sighting could lead one to the other. As he finished his calls, he headed down the corridor looking for Pam. His phone vibrated and there was a text from Amy Ludwig. Rather than read it, he called the number.

Amy confirmed that Sookie's son was right. The witch was not well. She was in a hospital and Amy intended to stay in Boston to help her. At the moment, Fran wasn't able to speak, but Amy was sure that she could fix that. "I can't say if the wards held, but it would be unusual for a witch's magic to pass as long as she lives," Amy told him. "Fran's magic is strong, I wouldn't be surprised if it lingered for awhile even after she dies. She is just that strong."

Eric knew this news should make him feel relieved but, for some reason, the tension within him didn't lessen. Eric texted Thalia, asking her to leave for Shreveport right away. He arranged to meet her outside Fangtasia later tonight.

Pam wasn't in her room. Neither was Karin. Eric swung back down the hall, stopping outside an open door just in time to hear Karin mocking young Rick. The Viking cut her off and ordered his progeny to prepare to leave. Eric headed back up the stairs to his room and finished packing. He put his laptop in his carry-on and handed it to the guard to be taken downstairs. Because it was easier, he rode the elevator down to the basement level where the donors were located. He intended to feed and leave, but as the door opened, Sookie's son barreled into him. He could smell the boy's panic and it took only one glance at his daughters feeding to realize the cause. The boy confirmed it, stammering and stuttering, fear written on his face. Eric was ready to rebuke the youth, but without needing any word from the Viking, the boy pulled himself together. Eric felt an unaccountable pride in the boy's actions.

Eric texted, ordering a donor to be sent to his chambers. He told the boy what Doctor Ludwig told him, that Rick needed fresh blood, not bagged. Eric couldn't help himself. Even though he knew the answer, he asked why the boy hadn't been taught to feed sooner, the boy surprised him again by losing his temper. They were alone in the vampire's chambers. As a human, Sookie's son should have been intimidated, but he didn't show any sign of it. He interpreted Eric's words as disrespecting his Mother, and he showed a heart worthy of any warrior in his defense of her.

Eric could tell the boy was nervous, but when the donor arrived, Rick didn't balk. It was during this exchange that Eric realized the boy was a telepath like his mother. Rick read something from the donor's thoughts, and while his gift didn't seem as strong as his Mother's, it made the connection between this boy and Sookie seem more real. Eric started to share information, what feeding meant to their kind but, for some reason, the boy shut the Viking down.

Then Eric understood why. The boy flung angry words that sounded like his Mother's. He accused Eric of abandoning his Mother and he spoke disrespectfully of Freyda. Eric was surprised how much the boy's words stung him. These thoughts could only have come from Sookie and Eric retreated, drawing his indifference around him to cushion the hurt he felt.

Still, Eric had to admit that the boy showed courage. He overcame his fear, and he fed from the human without Eric having to compel him. It had taken a Maker's command with Karin to force her to feed for the first time. Pam had taken to feeding like a fish to water, but Eric assumed he would meet strong resistance from Sookie's son.

It was while he was alone on the drive to Shreveport that Eric finally allowed all the pieces to fall into place for him. He thought about the boy, and he thought about his last weeks in Louisiana with Sookie all those years ago. He thought about the last time they made love. It was before Freyda arrived, before the cluviel dor. They were outside, on the porch swing at her house. They cried their passion into the night. There was trouble already. Eric knew he should have told Sookie about the contract, but he was so sure things would change. Eric thought about how happy he was to be there, to lose himself, if only for a few hours in her arms. She was his home, where he felt best. He would tell her in the nights that followed how much he loved her, but this was the last time he felt that she returned that affection to him with her whole heart. It was the last time he felt whole with her… until Denver.

In the weeks that followed, as things began to unravel, Sookie pulled away from him. Now, with the clarity of time, Eric could see his own part in it, how his own actions had pushed her away.

When he pulled into the lot at Fangtasia, Thalia was waiting for them. They headed inside and took over Indira's office. Thalia found Indira and pulled her aside. Thalia agreed with Eric's assessment of the sheriff and they both agreed it would be best if Thalia spoke with Indira first. Eric worried that if Indira said the wrong thing, in his current state he would lose his temper and end her. Eric used the time to check in with Alcide. The news was not good in that there was no new news. "What about the Were Panthers in Hot Shot?" Eric asked the Packmaster.

"We don't speak much," Alcide replied and Eric could almost see the Were sneering. "I left a message for Calvin Norris, but I didn't hear anything back."

"Have your people check the hospitals," Eric snarled. As he stalked past Thalia and Indira, he said, "Have our people check with the police. Unidentified persons. Jane Does."

Eric jumped behind the wheel of his car. He welcomed the excuse, the movement almost feeling like progress, and Eric needed to feel that way. He knew Calvin Norris well enough to know that the Clan Chief would only respond to a personal request. The panthers were strange, even among the Weres, but they were uncanny trackers and knew things that others didn't. They ranged over the countryside where few ventured. Eric wanted their involvement. Sookie knew of Hot Shot. She might have gone there, or near there for shelter.

It took awhile to reach the small settlement. The houses were dark, but Eric wasn't fooled. He knew there were eyes watching him, and he stalked up to Calvin's front door and turned all the way around, allowing all to see him fully under the moonlight. When Eric turned back to the door, it was open and Calvin Norris was framed in the light from inside.

"You're back," the Werepanther said cautiously.

"I'm King, now," Eric informed him. Eric had to work to keep his expression neutral. Calvin had changed, age sitting heavily on the Clan Chief's face and body. It had twisted and shriveled him. Eric knew this was the way with Weres. They maintained their vigor, but when age finally caught them, their bodies rapidly declined. It was said Weres lived hard and died fast, and Calvin Norris was living proof.

"Did you come all this way just to boast?" Calvin asked him.

"No," Eric shook his head. "Sookie Stackhouse returned to the state. She was in Shreveport the night of the takeover. Rubio Hermosa was probably with her. They're missing and we need to find them."

"Then it's likely she's dead," Calvin said bluntly. "The vampires who live here now don't need much in the way of an excuse. They like killing."

Eric's eyebrows drew together, "You have had trouble here with them." Calvin's silence was answer enough. "I am King now," Eric repeated. "You know me. You knew me when I was Sheriff here. I didn't tolerate that kind of treatment. I won't now. If you have specific grievances, let me know. I will see that they are addressed."

Calvin nodded, "You always did right by us. I'll give you a chance," he agreed. Eric didn't think it would be much of a chance, but that was the good thing about starting when expectations were low. Any improvement seemed like a lot.

"I don't know anything about Sookie or Rubio coming around here," Calvin continued. "I heard she was back and she was seen with de Castro's people, but nothing else. I will have my people search our woods and the hills around. If she is out there, we'll find her."

"Thank you," and Eric bowed low to the Clan Chief, knowing it would be seen by the watchers. "I am in your debt. I can be reached through Fangtasia."

It was late when Eric returned to the club. He had a text from Pam letting him know she'd parked Sookie's son with Mustapha. Eric briefly wondered why Pam hadn't chosen Sookie's human brother, Jason, to watch the boy. In the end, Eric didn't question it. Eric knew Mustapha Khan and his companion, Warren, admired Sookie. They would watch over the boy for her sake and keep him from harm. It was an acceptable solution.

Eric checked his watch. Dawn was approaching. He had not had an opportunity to speak with Indira, but he trusted Thalia more than himself to address the issue. He knew Indira would pick up the tracker, Heidi, from the airport at first rising. Tomorrow night, they would assemble at Fangtasia. As soon as Heidi arrived, they would begin the process of retracing steps. As he got into his car and started driving toward Pam's safe house in Minden, his worry descended on him again. So much time, another night passed, and still, no word.

If Sookie and Rubio had left the state, they would have called someone by now. If they were laying low, they would have found a way to send messages to their families. Something had happened. Eric's mind raced and he called Thalia again, demanding she find a way to track down those who had been involved in wiping out the people at the warehouse. It was possible they were hiding and holding Rubio and Sookie as hostages for their own safety. One thing Eric knew was that no one disappeared completely. They had to be somewhere and Eric promised himself that tomorrow's rising would give him answers.

Pam, Karin, and Eric arrived early at Fangtasia. Thalia and Karin had coordinated the gathering. The club was closed and all Area vampires were instructed to present themselves to pledge to the new King. The event served two purposes; it allowed a rough census of the vampires in the Area, but it also allowed Thalia to question those present. Eric was anxious to start the search, but there was no purpose until Heidi arrived, so he assumed the throne that had been brought out of storage. Pam and Karin arrayed themselves behind him and the parade began. Eric could hear his progeny joking behind him, wondering who let the dog out and mocking Mustapha. They made remarks about Rick, too, wondering whether dog was included with the rest of the strange mix that made him. While Pam's tone was light, Karin's was more pointed. When Rick arrived, Eric made a point of standing, thanking Mustapha, and introducing Rick as his son. It was noticed by those in attendance, and Eric was pleased that his daughters were less critical afterward.

It wasn't that Eric felt any closer to Rick. If anything, the sight of the tall, awkward boy made him even more uncomfortable, but Eric reminded himself that this was Sookie's son. The least he owed the boy was protection. The boy might think poorly of him, but Eric would give him no reason to think even less. He noted the boy's face, the pale circles around his eyes. Within an hour, the boy was shifting from foot to foot and Eric tasked his daughters with securing Rick a donor. From his throne, Eric watched Karin pull first one and then another human toward the back of the bar. The Viking resolved to speak with Karin about this. Things were tense enough without his oldest complicating matters further by being cruel.

Thalia signaled, letting him know Indira had arrived. Eric could see her walking in through the back followed by Heidi. Eric excused himself and together with Thalia, entered the office that Indira used as a base of operations. Alcide Herveaux was already seated in one chair and Heidi took the other. Eric walked around the desk and no sooner had he seated himself than Indira began apologizing. She told Eric she knew that Sookie Stackhouse was in the area before the takeover, but had taken no steps to safeguard her.

Eric felt his fury roar forward. Had his Sheriff taken even one step to warn her, or keep her in Fangtasia, Sookie might be beside him now. Eric realized that Rick and Pam had entered the office and it helped him to rein in his anger. His head knew Indira had acted with best intentions seeking to save Lily Hermosa, but this negligence was different. Indira had shown no judgment. She failed to understand the situation or the danger it presented to Sookie and Eric was angry all over again. He managed not to kill her, banishing her instead. This was the final lapse. Indira had failed him and they both knew any chance of her hoping to be appointed permanently as Sheriff were over as far as Eric was concerned.

Heidi started talking and Eric welcomed the distraction. She explained she was late arriving because she had stopped at the warehouse first. She told Eric she found evidence of Rubio, but couldn't be certain if the telepath had been there, too. "I wish to go there," Eric told her. He knew he needed to see this place for himself.

Eric asked Heidi to join him and once they were in the car, Eric questioned the tracker again. Heidi explained that the reason she couldn't distinguish whether Sookie had been at the warehouse was because she didn't have a scent signature for the telepath. She knew Rubio's scent, but Sookie? She wasn't sure. "I never tracked her," Heidi explained, "so I haven't had a chance to memorize her smell," and she pointed to her head.

"I can help with that," Eric answered. "There is something I have of hers. It's in the pocket of my coat," and Eric jerked his head toward the area in back of the seats. Heidi pulled a Ziploc baggie from his coat pocket and opened it. It was the baggie containing the pair of Sookie's underwear Eric had taken from the floor of the telepath's room in Denver before he left. Heidi looked surprised, but then she didn't.

As they drove, Eric thought about Rick's reaction to Alcide Herveaux. The boy handled the introduction well. Rick was painfully human, insisting on shaking hands, but it appeared his attitude had improved from last night. Eric realized he assumed Pam would bring him, and then he felt slightly guilty for not making sure.

When they arrived, Heidi walked him around the area outside, showing him where the vampire clothing was found, and then the room inside where the bodies were discovered. Eric looked at the blood splatter on the light fixture and the damage to the back wall. If Sookie had been here that night, she would have witnessed vampire executions in all their gory glory. Eric remembered how that kind of violence affected her. His Sookie was tough, but wanton killing disturbed her. "She was here," Heidi announced, and rather than feel pleased that he finally had proof, Eric worried more. They went outside and Heidi found Rubio's and Sookie's scent signatures toward the back of the lot. While he told himself that meant they escaped, Eric worried about where they could have gone.

It was then that Sookie's son brought up the house in Bon Temps. It never occurred to Eric that Sookie would still have access to that house. He knew what the house meant to her but, still, she had walked away from it. Then the boy mentioned the demon attorney and Eric realized that Doctor Ludwig wasn't the only one who knew Sookie's secret and failed to inform him. Eric was still smarting over Indira's failure, and the reminder of how little he liked Mr. Cataliades had Eric gnashing his teeth.

Grabbing Heidi, Eric jumped back in his car, heading for Bon Temps. As they sped down the road, the speedometer inching ever higher, Eric found himself balanced between anticipation and dread. That house had been the setting for some of his best nights, but also some of his worst. Heidi must have sensed his mood, because she remained silent the entire way, staring out her window.

When they pulled into the driveway, it was like a dream. The lights inside glowed softly, and almost before the engine stopped running, Eric was up the stairs and inside. He rushed from room to room, calling her name, but he knew as he took the stairs that led to the second floor that she wasn't there. The lights were a lie.

When he stopped in the front hall, Heidi was shaking her head. "They were here," she told him, "but it's been days. Two, maybe more." The disappointment was so great, Eric had to force himself to stand still. Pam's headlights pulled in, followed by another set he assumed belonged to Thalia. He walked outside, and then back in. The boy, Sookie's son, was staring at the fireplace. Eric followed his gaze and all he could see were the two of them, Sookie and him, laying in front of a fire. He shared his memories out loud with the boy, Rick fed his memories, mentioning Sookie's favorite books. Then Rick asked if his Mother was dead. It occurred to Eric that if Sookie was gone, this boy would have nowhere to go, and it caused something inside his chest to twist.

They walked outside, the two of them. Eric saw the porch swing and he said out loud what he was thinking, that the swing was where he had made this boy with his Lover. Eric could tell right away he'd said the wrong thing. The boy pulled back, but then he proved another of his gifts. Rick could track vampires.

That there were vampires at Bill Compton's house was both good news and bad. Eric grabbed Rick and he flew them both closer. Rick was able to confirm the count, and even tell Eric where in the house they were located. Eric didn't think to ask Rick about humans. He assumed if Rick had heard any, he would have said, and that absence made Eric's heart hurt. There were only so many possibilities now. A car was out front, probably Rubio's. It had to be Compton, stalking the upstairs. Eric wanted to believe there was still hope but if Sookie was with Rubio, and if Compton was friendly, Rick would have heard her thoughts.

Eric flew to the upper porch. The doors were open to the night air and Eric caught the whiff of chemical. It was the brand preferred by vampires cleaning up after messy kills, and Eric found he could wait no longer. With a roar, he rushed into the house, and found Bill Compton in the corner bedroom, straightening a white coverlet on a large bed.

"Where is she?" Eric screamed, grabbing the smaller vampire by the throat. He shoved Bill's head into the wall, breaking the surface and drawing blood. "What have you done with her?"

"She's not your concern anymore," Bill hissed. "She's mine, now, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Eric looked around, "Don't tell me she's downstairs," he hissed, bringing his face close. "There have not been enough nights. Where did you bury her!"

"You know the law!" Bill laughed. "She's my child now. She's my responsibility and you have no dominion over her. She threw you out before, Eric, and now, she's returned to me."

"And this is how you rewarded her?" Eric stilled. "You know she never wished to be turned!"

"She never knew what she really wanted," Bill squirmed. "She was wasting away. I've fixed that. Now she'll be perfect forever."

It was stupid and it broke every law that vampires held inviolate, but Eric was beyond caring. His hand closed and he heard the bones in Compton's neck break. The vampire started to realize that the power of the law wouldn't be enough to save him. "Where is she?" Eric asked again. He knew he was crying. He knew he looked weak, but his hands were not. Eric's brain was telling him that Compton was incapable of answering, but it was as if a red veil had descended over Eric's eyes.

"Where is she?" he demanded over and over, and each time he asked, he inflicted more damage on the vampire. He threw him across the room. He kicked him so hard that his spine snapped. He stomped Compton's leg and then twisted and ripped the damaged limb from him. He screamed his question and his hands worked, his fury finding its home in the quickly disintegrating body of Bill Compton.

From downstairs, Thalia and Pam heard Eric's roar and they knew. They were beside Rubio Hermosa. They found him in an office space toward the back of the house. Rubio had lost a great deal of blood and he was skewered to the floor with what could have been a piece of rebar, except it shone dully of silver. "Get the boy," Thalia told Pam. "I will need his help here and it will keep him from deciding to check that out himself." As Thalia pointed upstairs, the sounds escalated.

"He killed her," Pam said out loud.

"Not finally," Thalia replied, and her assumption was confirmed when they heard the Viking demand that Compton tell him where she was. "It's worse," Thalia sighed, then turned her attention to the injured vampire. "Rubio? Can you hear me? I'm going to give you some of my blood. You'll be fine. We've found you."

Rubio's eyes opened. His cheeks were sunken and he was grey. "Go!" she hissed to Pam, and then bit into her wrist and held the wound to Rubio's mouth.

Pam ran outside to find Rick running toward her. The sounds from the house were now more animal than anger. "What the hell is that?" Rick stammered.

"Your Maker," Pam told him. "But you don't need to worry. Eric would never hurt you." When the boy still stared toward the upper story, Pam snapped, "Rick! You need to come with me now! We found Rubio and he needs your help." Heidi was beside them and Pam said, "Go into the house and find any blood you can. We may need you to donate. Rubio's in bad shape."

"My Mom? Aren't you going to help her, too?" Rick asked.

Pam shook her head and saw that the boy misinterpreted. His face drained of color and Pam reached out to grab his shoulder, "No, it's not that. We don't know where she is yet. She's not inside," she told him quickly, and then pulled him with her toward the house.

The noise coming from upstairs sounded as if the ceiling would collapse. There were words being shouted, but it was hard to make them out over the sounds of wood splitting and glass breaking. Rick glanced at the stairs, but he kept walking, following Pam to the back room.

When he saw Mr. Hermosa on the floor, all Rick could think of was George and how much his friend loved his Dad. "Mr. Hermosa!" he said, falling to his knees. "It's me! Rick!"

The vampire opened his eyes again. "Rick! What are you doing here?" It was hard to hear him over the noise, so Rick leaned closer.

"I came down here with George. We came to find you and my Mom." Rick licked his lips, "Do you know where she is? My Mom?"

Rubio sighed, and shook his head a little. "I'm not sure," he whispered. "She was here with me, but I haven't seen her in some nights." Rick's heart fell, but then Amy Ludwig was there. She shook Rick's shoulder, demanding his attention.

"We are going to need to pull that silver stake out of him," Doctor Ludwig told Rick and she pointed at the rebar that was sticking straight through Mr. Hermosa. "We're going to have to do it slowly and seal him as we go, otherwise he'll bleed out. I need you to keep talking to him. Distract him as much as you can. If he needs it," and Amy handed Rick a mason jar that had blood in it, "Feed him this. Keep him conscious."

There was another loud crash from upstairs and then things became eerily silent. "Thank goodness," Amy snarled, then turning to Thalia said, "Are you ready?"

For Rick, there was nothing more. There was holding Mr. Hermosa's hand, and telling him all about the trip from New York. There was the moment when they paused in their pulling the silver stake because Thalia's hands slipped and suddenly the room was filled with the smell of burning flesh. There was tipping the jar carefully over Mr. Hermosa's pale lips, feeding him just a little, and the way he gasped when the pain was greatest. Rick glanced over once and then, just as quickly looked back at Mr. Hermosa's face. The women were clustered around the stake, their mouths bloody and their clothes and arms streaked and dappled.

"It's different than you thought, isn't it?" Mr. Hermosa gasped.

"What?" Rick asked.

"The glamorous life of a vampire," and then Mr. Hermosa smiled a little. "Don't worry. Everything is shocking the first time," he whispered. "It will become more familiar, and then you start to stop noticing," and then he laughed breathlessly, "although, hopefully, you won't see something like this very often."

When Rick's eyes started to wander again, Rubio got his attention back by squeezing his hand, "You must promise me something," he wheezed.

"Sure, Mr. Hermosa," Rick could tell he was crying, but he felt too numb to care.

"Don't tell my wife about this! Mrs. Hermosa would stake me if she knew what kind of trouble I got myself into this time."

For some reason, the way he said it struck Rick funny and he laughed out loud, "Sure, Mr. Hermosa. Sure thing, your secret's safe with me!"

"It's out," Amy announced. "I've called for transport. Let's get some more blood into you," and she moved forward to sit closer to Rubio's head. She smiled at Rick, encouraging him to slowly feed the rest of the blood to Mr. Hermosa, tipping the jar, so just a little dribbled into his mouth at a time.

"Do you need me to give you some, you know, from me?" Rick swallowed hard. He didn't really want to think about any vampire, even Mr. Hermosa biting him, but he knew it was the right thing to offer.

"That was a kind thing to say," the familiar voice said from behind him and Rick looked up. It was Eric. His Father was standing to the side of them. He was covered in gore. Rick thought later that he might have been just too numb to care, but it didn't bother him the way it should have. Eric moved to squat near Rubio and Amy made room for him. Eric captured Rick's eyes with his own, and Rick understood his Father meant to show him something. The vampire bit into his wrist, his fangs distended. It made a crunching sound, and when he pulled his wrist away, it looked as if he'd torn a chunk of flesh from himself. He released Rick's eyes then, turning to place one hand on Rubio's head, he laid his bloody wrist against Rubio's mouth.

Rick could see the immediate change in Mr. Hermosa's color. He looked less grey. "It's the power of his blood," Pam said from behind them.

The wound closed quickly, and Eric raised his arm to bite again, but Rubio shook his head. "It is enough, my King," he sighed. "I thank you."

"It is I who am grateful," the Viking replied. "Your loss would have been a great sorrow to me." Eric rose then and held out his hand to Rick. "I need you to come with me," he said.

Rick stared at the hand, and then, refusing to take it, he rose on his own, brushed off his pants and stiffly nodded.

Eric took his hand back, but Rick could see he was smiling. Together they walked to the front door. "I need you to use your gift as a hunter," Eric told him. "The vampire you seek will not look like us. Perhaps she will be less clear, less vampire. She is here, though, and we need to find her."

"Another vampire?" Rick felt confused. He felt he should know something, but his head felt mushy.

"Search," Eric urged. "Look all around. Tell me if you see anything."

Rick closed his eyes. He saw the bright lights that were the vampires in the house. He did his best to ignore them and instead, he cast his mind out to the land around the house. The grid in his head came back. There was darkness and then, as he scanned in the direction of his mother's house, there was something else. He frowned and slowly, he scanned again. "There," he pointed, his eyes still closed.

"Take me there," Eric placed his hand on Rick's shoulder, and together, they walked forward. They walked past the tree where Eric had flown them earlier. They walked toward a line of bushes and then a path. There was a metal fence, and Rick realized they'd walked into the cemetery he'd seen earlier. The moon was still shining, and he saw it glow on the stones and carved angels' faces. There was something else, though. It was another light, but so dim. Rick walked some more, and then he stopped. The light should have been in front of him, but all he could see were the monuments.

"It's supposed to be here," he shrugged.

"Yes," Eric told him. "She is."


	22. Chapter 22 - What Lies Beneath

**Chapter 22 – What Lies Beneath**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Eric had gone quiet behind him in that creepy way Rick noticed with vampires. They became so still you almost felt as if you were standing all alone in a forest. It was during these times Rick felt the difference between what he was and other vampires. He was finding that in other ways it was easier to forget. Well, except for the blood thing. And the violence thing.

And the calling thing. Rick almost jumped out of his skin when Pam was suddenly beside them. He even felt the breeze of her coming. "Jeez!" he exclaimed, but Pam wasn't looking at him. She was staring at Eric.

Rick couldn't help it. He had to give them both a once over. Their hair and clothes were crusted with blood and clots of something he didn't even want to guess at. They looked as if they'd both walked out of the worst horror movie he'd ever seen but, at the same time, it just wasn't bothering him the way it had before. Rick figured Mr. Hermosa must have been right. Maybe you just got over noticing it after awhile.

"I will need transport," Eric was telling Pam. Pam was staring at his Father's face like he was the only thing in the world, and Rick realized there was something more going on than what he could see with his eyes. Rick had already figured out that Eric could call Pam without using words or texting. What was going on now was something extra. It wasn't telepathy, but it seemed kind of close.

"For one?" Pam asked.

"Two," Eric replied.

"Is someone going to tell me what's going on?" Rick interrupted.

"It may be hard to find that out here," Pam continued, ignoring Rick's question.

"Ask Amy," Eric also ignored Rick. "She will have access to something that will work. She must have it for her hospital."

While it pissed Rick off, being treated this way wasn't unusual. These were adults. They ignored kids like him all the time. When his Mother kept talking as if he wasn't standing right there, he knew it meant she was having a conversation and he was going to have to wait until she was done before she'd acknowledge him, so Rick settled back on his heels, crossed his arms, and grit his teeth.

"Will you stay here?" Pam was asking.

"No," and Eric looked away into the darkness, "Call Anubis. Tell them I want an emergency flight. It shouldn't be a problem. We will return to New Orleans tonight. I can best do what is needed there."

The longer they spoke, the more Rick felt as if they were speaking in some code. Pam glanced in his direction a couple of times. She looked sympathetic and the fear Rick felt earlier returned. He was sure that whatever they were discussing, it had to do with his Mother.

Eric laid his hand on Rick's shoulder and Rick was so tense, he jumped at the contact. "Go with Pam," Eric told him.

"I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what's going on." Rick knew it was a false threat. He'd seen how these vampires moved and as strong as he was, he was pretty sure he'd be no match against either Pam or Eric, but he had to try. "I can tell something's happened. Is this about my Mom?" and Rick stomped his foot. He drew a shaky breath and fisted his hands. "Look! I've been really patient and I've seen shit tonight I… I just want to know."

"We are all too upset to discuss this any further at the moment," Eric said tightly. "Return to the house with Pam. I need to do something here, but when I'm finished, I will come to the house and I will explain."

"Can't I stay and help?" Rick didn't know why he asked, but he didn't want to leave this place. He couldn't explain it, but walking away seemed hard.

"Not this time," and Eric's hand tightened on his shoulder. It was the kind of thing Rick had always imagined a Father would do, not a full-out hug like his Mom gave, but a kind of man-to-man thing.

"Come with me, Baby Fang," Pam still had that look on her face, the one that said something really bad had happened. Still, Rick allowed her to take his arm and walk him back toward the house. As they came to the fence that surrounded the cemetery, Rick turned. He could see Eric's glow between the trees. It looked like he was digging.

There was a van in the driveway when they got back. It was one of those tall, commercial truck-type vans. There weren't any lights or anything, but Rick knew this was the vampire version of an ambulance. "Is that for Mr. Hermosa?" Rick asked Pam.

She hadn't said anything during the short walk. Pam swiped at her face and Rick realized she was crying. "Yes," she nodded, and seemed to gather herself. "Come on. I need to talk with Amy before she leaves."

Pam rushed toward the house, leaving Rick standing there. It wasn't far, just a short jog, but he still smarted at her just leaving him. As Rick jogged to the driveway, he saw the other vampires clustered around his sister. Heidi was hugging Pam. Rick wasn't sure why Pam was so upset, and then they all turned to look at him. "What?" he asked again.

Amy Ludwig walked out from the group, "Why don't you come with me?" she said. "They are getting Rubio ready for transport inside. I think he'd like to speak with you."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Rick asked the Doctor.

"Nope," Amy shook her head. "Not my place." 

"This sucks!" Rick growled.

"So does a lot of stuff, Kid. Get used to it!" The doctor didn't say it meanly, but Rick could see he wasn't going to get any further with her.

Rubio was still inside, but he'd been moved to the hallway near the front door. He was strapped to a gurney and sitting up. He looked much better and he was talking on a cell phone. He glanced at the Doctor and Rick, then held up a finger, letting them know it would only be a minute. "I love you, too," he said into the phone. "You're sure? I can go to the hospital here." There was a pause and Rick could hear the faint whine of the voice on the other end. "I'm sure it will be okay. Doctor Ludwig can walk us through anything we need to know, but… No, I'm sure. I'm fine. It was just… Silver can take awhile, and they got to it in plenty of time."

Rick knew that it was Mrs. Hermosa on the other end of the line. He felt embarrassed listening, but then, Mr. Hermosa said, "Look, I've got to go. If you and George start driving now, you'll be there by the time the transport pulls up." Mr. Hermosa turned away as if it would give him a little more privacy as he said, "I promise you, Lily. I love you," and then he said, "I'll see you soon."

"So, she's returning to your home?" The doctor's eyebrow raised.

"She knew what she was getting into when she married me," Mr. Hermosa's voice was quiet. "I haven't had to test her patience often," and then he looked at Rick. "But what's going on, Rick? You don't look like you're doing too well."

"The Viking is in the cemetery," Doctor Ludwig said, and Rick could see that meant something to Mr. Hermosa, too.

Rick felt his throat closing. His mouth worked and he could feel his anger starting to boil over. At least his Mother told him things. These adults…

"You don't know what it means, do you?" Mr. Hermosa was looking straight at him.

"No one's telling me anything!" Rick half-yelled.

"The North Man said he'd explain to the boy," Doctor Ludwig said it like a warning.

Rick shot her a look, but, thankfully, Mr. Hermosa said, "Why don't you go get a chair, Rick? I'll tell you what I can. Part of the reason everyone's being so cagey is that they don't know exactly how things are going to turn out." When Rick's mouth opened, Mr. Hermosa held up his hand, "Go get that chair. It will be easier for me to tell you what I do know if I can stop looking up at you."

Amy rolled her eyes, but she walked back out the door and signaled the assistant who'd been collecting and cleaning up supplies to come with her. Rick almost didn't want to hear any more. He dawdled, watching Ludwig's people leave, but when he turned back he saw Mr. Hermosa's raised eyebrows and realized he was keeping him waiting, too, so Rick sprinted to the living room and grabbed a chair. It wasn't too big, but it was still upholstered and awkward, and Rick bumped a couple things as he hefted it into the hall. He dropped it with a thump on the floor and then shoved it closer to the gurney.

"This is about your Mom," Rubio confirmed. He looked at the face of his son's friend, and suddenly wasn't sure how to start. Then Rubio thought about George and how hard it was for his son to wait for anything. He thought of how, when left to his own imagination, George always assumed things were worse than they were. "The reason they aren't saying anything is because they are still hoping they aren't right."

"About what?" Rick asked.

"They think your Mom has been turned," and Mr. Hermosa stopped talking. He wasn't sure what reaction to expect, and, as the silence stretched, Rubio thought back to what he remembered.

For two nights, Rubio was sure he heard Sookie screaming but, after that, he lost the ability to distinguish between what was real and what was hallucination. The sun had streamed in through the windows of the office every day. While it hadn't quite reached him, even the reflected light had been enough to burn and torment. He believed Bill Compton turned Sookie, but he also knew, based on what he'd heard, that it was just as possible that Bill had accidentally killed her.

"Turned?" Rick said at last, his eyes narrowing, "Like…she's a vampire?" Rubio nodded, and then waited some more. Rubio anticipated anguish and disgust, but instead, Rick almost shrugged, "So, she'll be like me?"

It wasn't at all what Rubio expected. Rick didn't look distressed, instead he looked curious. "Probably," Rubio nodded. "They won't know for sure until they…" and Rubio braced again, "dig her up."

"So, that was her? In the cemetery?" and now Rick did look concerned. Rubio could see the boy was struggling a little, "She was that light I saw? The dim one? That was my Mom?"

"You found her?" Now it was Rubio's turn to be curious. He thought he'd heard Pam call Rick a vampire hunter.

Rick nodded, "Eric told me to look for another vampire. He said the light wouldn't be like the rest of you, it would be different." What Rick said made sense. If Sookie was turning, she would be changing by degrees. "I saw something, and we ended up in the cemetery."

Something struck Rubio about what Rick said. "Why do you call him 'Eric'? Shouldn't you call him Father, or Dad?"

"Have you seen that guy?" Rick huffed. "I mean, he's been pretty nice to me and all, but he's…well, he's not like you." Rick looked away, then said, "Is that what he's doing? Eric, I mean. Digging her up?"

"Yes," Rubio nodded. "It's the only way he can confirm it's her. He could wait until she emerges, but that could take days."

"What, you mean like she would dig herself up out of the ground? I thought that was just an Internet thing!" and Rick took a deep breath to steady himself. "So…he's digging her up…"

"The King will confirm it's Sookie, your Mom, and that she's transforming. Rick, you need to know that sometimes turnings don't work. No one knows why. It's a magic thing, and magic is not an exact science." When Rick pulled at his lip, Rubio added, "Although, in this case, I don't think I'd worry too much. After all, you were able to see a vampire glow, right? That would mean if it's her, things are moving along."

"So, she's not dead," and Rick blushed as his voice cracked and quick tears started spilling over his cheeks. Until that moment, the boy had refused to admit how frightened he really was.

"If it is your Mom, then she is dead," Rubio corrected, "just not finally dead."

"Well, then!" Rick nodded, looking better, "That's still better than dead, right?"

"I guess it depends on how you look at it, but, yes," Rubio nodded, "it is good news."

Rick started to smile and he stood up. "Do you think I could go and see her?" he asked.

Rubio hesitated. He could see how relieved Rick was, but there were some realities about turning that made it a process best done in the dirt. If Sookie was two or more nights into her transformation, she would not be fit for her son to view. There was a sloughing off of organic tissues and fluids. It was a messy, unpleasant process, which was why most Makers left the newly-turned alone in the ground until they completed their metamorphoses. He thought about George or Maddie, and how they'd react. "I don't know if that would be a good idea," he said carefully. "Your Father will be able to tell you if it's a good time or not. As a vampire transforms, their human body literally falls away and it's replaced by their new, vampire body."

"Oh," Rick stilled and Rubio could see him puzzling over that news. "Does that mean she won't remember anything?"

Rubio smiled, "No. Your Mother will remember everything. She'll remember everything from her human life. She'll remember you. She'll even remember transforming, but, from now on, she'll remember everything perfectly. Vampires have complete recall. We literally can't forget anything. It's both a gift and a curse."

"I don't know," Rick shrugged. "Sounds like a pretty good thing to me. I know I don't have it, not really. I listen to those German tapes and I think I'm saying the words the right way, but my teacher tells me my accent is terrible."

"You may develop that gift as you grow," Rubio assured him. "If you do, you'll never struggle with languages again. Most of us speak many languages. It's simply impossible for us to forget any word or its meaning."

"So, how is any of that a bad thing?" Rick asked.

"Well, you also remember all the not so great things. For example, one time when we were first dating, Mrs. Hermosa ate garlic pizza. Not only did she smell terrible, her stomach did bad things afterward. I love my wife very much, but I will remember with perfect clarity for the rest of my existence the bad smells she made that night."

Mr. Hermosa pinched his nose and pulled a face, making Rick chuckle. "I guess you must really love her, then."

"I do," Mr. Hermosa agreed. "Enough to never mention that to her again, and I'm trusting you to do the same."

"Cross my heart," Rick smiled, and made the sign with his fingers. He looked toward the door, "But, she will be different, my Mom, I mean."

'Yes," and Rubio watched him. Rick looked away, then toward the door. Rubio didn't think the boy had more questions, but Rubio was wrong. It turned out Rick's silence was just him figuring out what to ask next.

"Does everyone think that my Mom won't want to be around me? Is that why they won't talk to me about her?" Rick looked worried. George had described to his Father how Rick regularly pushed the envelope with his Mother. He tested her patience and did things that he should have known would worry her. Rubio had talked with George about Rick's risk-taking, worried that Rick would pull George into some activity that would get them both hurt or worse. After they talked, Rubio felt a little better about the adventures.

Lily didn't. Her theory about Rick's dare-devil antics was that being the child of a single parent, he was subconsciously worried about abandonment. Lily thought Rick took risks that made his Mother 'prove' over and over again his place in her life.

"It's not her reaction to you that's worrying them," Rubio explained. The vampire knew that he was treading into personal space, but he could see that holding back would not help the boy in front of him. He wondered why Eric Northman hadn't said more to comfort his son, but then he stopped blaming. It had not been easy for Rubio to earn his way into the trust of his adopted children. It had taken years, and Rubio knew about them from the beginning. The Viking had less than a week of knowing about his son, and, if Rubio were to guess, the same amount of time interacting with children of any kind.

"Have you and your Mother ever talked about how she feels about becoming a vampire?" Rubio asked.

Rick didn't get a chance to answer. Instead, Pam walked into the hallway. She looked haggard and her voice was strained. "We have another transport coming," she announced. "I'm heading into town with Amy to get clothes for all of us." She looked at Rick, "Do you need anything? Food?"

Rick's stomach growled, "Yes!" he said. "That would be great."

"It will be another half hour or so," she told Rubio. "I hear you're going to your home on the other side of Minden."

"Lily is headed there now," Rubio nodded. "She'll take care of me."

"What about your progeny?" Pam asked. "This one's accomplice?" and she looked at Rick.

"George will be there, too," Rubio confirmed.

Pam was squinting a little, and Rick wasn't sure he liked it. Thinking to head off whatever his sister was cooking up, Rick asked, "Well, where are we going?"

"New Orleans," Pam answered, but she sounded distracted. The horn honked outside and she said, "We'll talk some more when I get back," and then, she ran like her pants were on fire.

"They'll want to clean up now," Rubio told Rick. "While vampires are comfortable living in a world of violence, we prefer to be physically clean."

"I guess that makes sense, what with how you smell everything and how sensitive you are," and Rick felt that familiar tension start.

"When's the last time you fed on blood?" Rubio asked him.

"When we started out tonight," Rick answered, and then he yawned. "What time is it, anyway?"

"There are only a few more hours until dawn," Rubio replied. "You should go outside and tell Doctor Ludwig you need to feed. She can provide you with bagged blood."

"Yeah," Rick nodded, "Okay."

He stood up and as he turned, Rubio said, "If you see Thalia outside, can you tell her I'd like a word?"

"I can tell her," Rick rolled his eyes, "but she'll probably just hiss at me."

"She can seem rude," Rubio smiled.

"Yeah!" Rick growled as he walked through the doorway, "There's a word!" He could hear Mr. Hermosa laughing behind him, but he knew that if you pretended like you weren't really talking to anyone in particular, adults would usually pretend they didn't hear what you said.

Rick walked outside. Pam was getting into a car. Almost as soon as the door closed, the wheels were turning, spitting gravel, and the car almost fish-tailed as they left.

"What the hell!" Rick exclaimed.

Thalia was standing near the doctor and she gave him that 'I'm superior' look that he was starting to become familiar with. "Mr. Hermosa asked if you could go see him," Rick told her, jerking his thumb toward the house. He didn't wait for Thalia's reply. Instead, he turned on his brightest smile and asked the Doctor, "Would you happen to have any extra blood? I'm pretty hungry, and I'd sure appreciate it."

"You got his charm!" Amy laughed. "Could have been the Viking himself sweet talking me. You are going to be one lady killer when you grow up." She asked the attendant in the van to pull a bag out of the cooler. "Come on, I'll walk you inside. Compton has a microwave and I'm sure he has a glass or mug around here somewhere." She tossed Rick one bag, then carried a second as she started walking toward the house.

"So," she said, as they climbed the porch stairs, "How are you holding up?"

"Better now," Rick nodded, "Mr. Hermosa explained what's going on." They passed Thalia and Rubio. Thalia was staring at them, so Rick deliberately looked away. Doctor Ludwig seemed to know where she was going and Rick followed her. The kitchen wasn't large and it wasn't especially clean, but there was a microwave. Doctor Ludwig waved toward the cabinets, and Rick understood she was too short to reach, so he opened them until he found some water glasses. Rick carefully twisted the top off the tube that secured the first bag and poured it into the glass.

While the microwave carousel turned, Amy asked, "Well, what did Mr. Hermosa tell you?"

"He said my Mom is probably a vampire now." Rick could see that Amy Ludwig looked upset. "What?" he asked. "Hey, at least she's not dead. I thought she was gone! I thought any minute someone was going to tell me I was never going to see her again. Vampire? That's not such a big deal," but when the Doctor didn't say anything, Rick started to worry. "Is it? I mean, I'm a vampire, and that's okay, right?"

"Right," Doctor Ludwig nodded. "You're right. Being a vampire isn't such a big deal," but she didn't say it like she really believed it, and that worried Rick some more. He knew George trusted his Dad. His friend told Rick that it was one of the things he really liked about his Dad, that whatever Mr. Hermosa said was the truth, even when it wasn't easy to hear.

Rick looked down at his shoes, "So, what's going to happen now? Pam said we're going to New Orleans tonight."

"That is the plan," Doctor Ludwig pulled the blood out of the microwave, poured, and put her hand over the glass and shook it a couple times before handing it to Rick. "As soon as the second transport and the coffin arrive…"

"Coffin?" and Rick's eyes widened. "Why do you need a coffin? I mean, Mr. Hermosa said Mom isn't finally dead, so why…"

"It's how vampires prefer to travel," Doctor Ludwig laid her hand on Rick's arm. Rick found the contact kept him from going into full-blown panic. "These are special travel coffins. They are constructed to be opened from the inside. It's so if the vampire is caught in daylight, they're still safe. It's a very practical solution for vampires, especially when they can't be sure they'll make it where they're going before sunrise." Amy wasn't being totally honest. The reason for using this coffin had little to do with sunrise, but seeing how stressed Rick was, she didn't think telling him his Mother wasn't totally solid would help the situation.

"Oh," Rick was swallowing hard. He looked at the night sky outside the kitchen window. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Rick had been holding his own with all this, he really had, but the thought that his Mother was going to be placed in a coffin made it all too real. "Do you really have to do that? I mean, can't she just be wrapped in a blanket or something? Why does she have to be put in a box?" and that was it. He was crying.

Amy looked at Rick as if he was some deranged psychiatric patient. She cleared her throat twice, and then she said, "About time you got in here!"

Rick was trying to brush the tears away, but it was no good. His nose was starting to run. His chest ached with the effort to suppress the sounds coming out of him and his throat felt tight. He didn't want to sob, but he could feel a full-on meltdown coming. He looked to where Doctor Ludwig was staring to see Eric standing near him. The vampire was covered in dirt and grime, but Rick didn't care. He walked into the vampire and wrapped his arms around him. "Please tell me my Mom's okay," he gasped. "It was her, right? In the cemetery?"

It was a long moment, but then Rick felt the vampire's arms wrap awkwardly around him. "Yes," Eric said. "It was her." His voice was raspy.

"And she's turning okay? I mean, she's going to wake up and everything?" Rick asked.

"You know your Mother is becoming a vampire?" Eric asked.

Rick nodded, "Mr. Hermosa told me. So, everything's going to be all right, right?" The vampire didn't say anything, but his arms loosened. Rick looked up into Eric's face, "Right? It's going to be okay?"

Eric pushed Rick away a little, so he could look at him more fully, "She is turning," he confirmed. "You are not upset about your Mother becoming a vampire?"

"No," the boy sniffed. "Not really. I wish she didn't have to change," Rick's voice was too loud and he knew he was on the edge of breaking down, but Eric talking helped him to pull together his control. "But it's better than her being dead. I thought for sure she was gone… I mean really gone," and Rick snuffled again. "I got that text, and the whole way down here, I didn't know what I'd find. I just knew she wasn't gone; I don't think I could have kept going if I believed that, but I knew something bad happened."

"You're not upset? You aren't…angry that your mother is becoming a vampire?" Eric asked it again. The way he said it was like he was stuck.

"No," Rick shook his head. Eric's reaction was puzzling. "Why would I be upset? I'm a vampire, right? Why would Mom have a problem being like me?"

Eric stepped back, but he left his hand on Rick's shoulder. "Yes," he said, and his face seemed to lift a little, "Sookie could not object to being like her own child." He raised his other hand and cupped Rick's face, "My son," he said, but Rick had the impression he was really talking himself and not to Rick at all.

Then it was as if Eric shook himself and woke up. "Come!" he said, "Pam is bringing clothing for us. There is a bathroom upstairs. We will be traveling and we shouldn't be seen on public ways as we are." Rick glanced down at himself. He hadn't exactly been clean and tidy before, but, after hugging Eric, his clothes were streaked with fluids and dirt. He made a face and the vampire actually smiled before pushing Rick toward the stairs. "There are some clothes upstairs. The vampire who owned them was about your size. We should find something that will fit you."

The bathroom was just at the top of the stairs. There was a large walk-in shower that could have fit a couple people and it was surrounded by heavy glass. There was also a toilet, which Rick eyed longingly.

"I will find you clothes," Eric told him, and then left, shutting the door behind him.

"You can just leave them outside the door!" Rick shouted, hoping the vampire would catch his meaning and not open the door again. Rick turned on the shower and took care of other needs. He caught sight of his face in the mirror. His cheeks were smudged with dirt and there was something sticky on the collar of his shirt and part of his neck. He tried not to think about it too much. The shower water was hot and it beat down on him. ' _Mom will wake up and be able to talk with me like before_ ,' he thought to himself. ' _She'll be different, but she'll still be my Mom._ ' After a minute, he even said it out loud, "She'll still be my Mom!" and it steadied him.

After a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. "I'm getting out!" Rick automatically called out. He turned off the water and then he remembered he hadn't seen any towels. When he swung the shower door open, though, there was a towel folded on the sink and a stack of clothes on the closed toilet seat. "Never going to get used to that sneaking around!" he groused, grabbing the towel.

It didn't take long to dress. The jeans were a little short and he had to tighten the belt to the last hole to hold them up, otherwise, the clothes fit okay. They were definitely better than trying to put the other clothes back on. Rick pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his dirty pants. He figured it was the last time he'd see this particular outfit, which was fine by him. He wasn't fond of the collared shirt, but it was one his Mom insisted was appropriate for company, which was why Rick had chosen it for tonight.

Rick opened the door to find a very naked Eric standing in the hall. He was talking with Pam and when Rick made a startled sound, the Viking looked at him with that up-lifted eyebrow that made Rick feel like a two-year-old. Rick wasn't quite sure what to do. Eric didn't look uncomfortable in the least. He was standing tall, his arms crossed, and balanced back on his heels. Eric was saying, "I'll consider it," and Rick had the impression they were discussing him.

"He's embarrassed!" Pam drawled, which was all Rick needed for his blush to burn through him.

"By what?" and Eric looked puzzled, then annoyed. "You must learn not to be so human!" he hissed at Rick, then made a motion, indicating that Rick should step out of the bathroom door so Eric could pass.

"Sorry," Rick stammered, but he was having a hard time knowing where to put his eyes. If he looked down, all he could see were Eric's parts. If he looked up, he was looking at a broad, muscled chest that really did look like it came from another age. He could hear Eric huff, but then the door was pulled closed, and the water started to run again.

"So," Pam walked a little closer. She'd changed her shirt, but there was still dried blood in her hair. "You really think your Mom is going to be okay with being turned?"

Rick shrugged, then nodded, "Sure. I even asked her about it once. She said when she was here before she wasn't so sure, but she changed her mind once I came along."

"You're all right!" Pam smiled. She glanced at the bathroom door, then leaned past Rick to pull it completely closed. "Come on, let's head downstairs. I brought you a hamburger from one of those fast food places you humans seem to like."

"I don't, generally," Rick told her as they walked downstairs. "Grilled chicken works for me. Or salad." When Pam threw him a look, he said, "Hey, we're related! I thought you'd want to know!"

Pam walked through to the front hall. Thalia was standing beside Rubio. Rick was surprised Mr. Hermosa was still here. Thalia walked in back of the chair that was still sitting in the hallway and put her hands on the back of it, telling him without words she expected him to sit down. As he did, Pam handed him a bag with a familiar logo on it. Even though Rick could tell the food was cold, his stomach growled, so he grabbed a couple French fries. "You mind if I eat?" he asked.

"It's fine," Rubio told him.

"I am grateful," Pam told him. "Whatever you told Eric, it calmed him down."

"What?" Rick kept looking from one vampire to the other. "About my Mom? I guess she had a weird reputation when it came to vampires when she lived here before." He looked down at the floor as he said, "Mustapha told me that, that she really wasn't great when it came down to it." Rick looked at Rubio as he said, "But she's okay with it now. She helped me get set up to drink blood. She tells me stuff about vampires." Rick glanced at the stairs, "She told me a bunch of stories about…well, you know…about Eric," and Rick felt his cheeks pink up. Thalia laughed and Rick smiled in spite of himself. "Look, my Mom told me how lucky I am to be this way, and how I'll be getting all kinds of special gifts and we talk about stuff. She even told me she wished she could see in the dark like me. I'm not saying it won't be weird for her, but I don't think she's going to freak out about it, either."

"So, we will find out how far along she is," Pam turned to Thalia, suddenly all business. "She will complete her transformation in New Orleans. Eric is committed to moving her there."

"It would be better if he just left her in the ground here," Thalia growled. "If he's worried about her being alone, he could just as easily join her. Moving her is foolish and inconvenient for everyone!"

"You tell him that!" Pam snorted. "Nothing is too good for the Princess!"

"What's the big deal?" Rick asked, and as soon as he did, the vampires went silent around him. After a minute, Rick turned to Mr. Hermosa, who at least looked embarrassed, "What?" Rick huffed. "You, too?"

"This is something that would be best coming from your Father, Rick," Mr. Hermosa told him.

"Well, that's great!" Rick exclaimed, "Because _Eric_ ," and he emphasized his use of his Father's name, "doesn't tell me anything!"

"Perhaps that should change," said the deep voice behind him, and Rick knew that the Viking was standing just behind his chair.

Rick swallowed, but then he squared his shoulders, turned, and faced the vampire. He jutted his chin forward and, in that moment, it was perfectly clear to everyone that the two were closely related. "Yeah," Rick said with more confidence than he felt, "it should!"

"Come with me," Eric told him, and then turned and walked outside without waiting.

"He's got to stick around," Pam sighed. "We are going to have all kinds of fun watching Eric figure this one out!"

xxxXXXxxx

Eric walked across the porch and then down into the yard. He walked until he was on the other side of the large tree that marked the halfway point between the house and the cemetery. A coffin was sitting at the fence. It was where Eric had placed his Sookie while her boy showered in Compton's house. Once the coffin was secured, Eric planned to climb into the coffin so they could complete their journey together. He would wrap himself around her, cushioning her, letting her know through his presence that she was cherished and safe.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Sookie's son following him. ' _Our son_ ,' he reminded himself.

His eyes rested back on the coffin. He was certain he knew how Sookie had been turned, and he wished it did not remind him of his own. His turning was so long ago, but still Eric remembered.

His Maker, Appius, had thrown him into a hole he made Eric dig, but only after days of torment. Appius told Eric that he was being transformed into a higher form of life, one that would feed on those around him. Because of this, Eric was told he owed Appius a great debt, and his Maker intended to collect in many ways. It was the first time Eric had ever been used by a man, and the pain had been memorable. However, it was nothing compared to the pain Eric felt when Appius used his knife to carve out the Viking's battle scars and the clan markings from his body. While his Maker used his glamour to subdue Eric, he did nothing to mask the pain he inflicted. Eric came to understand over the years he was held by his Maker that Appius enjoyed hurting others, a true sadist. Appius whispered to Eric as he drew his knife through the Viking's flesh that he was making him 'perfect.' Only after Eric's skin began to heal, aided by his Maker's blood, did Appius drain him.

Eric remembered his slow awakening in the cold ground, the twilight that was bad dreams and fear. He remembered feeling alone, and yet relieved to be so. He remembered his anger, and then the great weight of his despair until Appius used his Maker's command to force Eric's compliance.

When he first dug her from the ground and saw her pale face and hair, he considered ending her, and then waiting beside her for the sun to take him, too. When Eric lifted Sookie from the ground, he noticed the scars on her belly were gone. It made him look closer. The scars on her legs from her time with the fairies were gone, too. His stomach churned and he wished Bill Compton was still with him, so he could pound him into a boneless rag doll all over again.

Without the power of a Maker's command, he knew that his Sookie would be disoriented when she rose and realized what she'd become. She had told him so many times in the past that she never wanted to be made a vampire. She told him she needed the sun, and Eric was sure that without a way to compel her, his Sookie would find a way to end what she would have to consider a hateful existence. It would be like his own rising when he yearned for his final death every minute he was awake.

As he brushed his fingers across her still face, Eric also knew that having found her, he wouldn't be able to lose her again. It seemed fitting, somehow, that if they couldn't find peace together in this life, that they would be united in final death. He thought about carrying her to her house and stretching out on the bed they had once shared, holding her as the sun came for them.

But he couldn't bring himself to end her. Eric knew there would be that moment when she would open her eyes, and he could speak with her one more time. It was weak and selfish, but he wished it and it stayed his hand.

It was then that Thalia appeared, standing at the edge of the grave above him. "Stop it!" she hissed. "You are forcing Pam to live through your grief. She has done nothing to deserve it."

Eric brushed the dirt from his Sookie's still face as he closed down the bond between his child and himself. "I will apologize," he told Thalia.

"What do you intend to do? You are King now! There are many who depend on you," and Thalia crossed her arms, making her disdain clear. Eric was certain Thalia had guessed his intent and she was using her words to remind him of his duties. It worked.

"I've asked Pam for a coffin and transport," Eric conceded. "I will take Sookie to New Orleans. There is a large tub there. I will care for her until she rises, and I have made my arrangements."

"Arrangements?" Thalia persisted. "She may have the privilege of being selfish," and Thalia jerked her chin at Sookie, "but you do not! What about your progeny? What about her son? Your son? What do you intend to do with him? Would you leave him alone with no Mother or Father?"

"I can't lose her again," Eric whispered. It wasn't a good answer and he knew it, but he felt powerless in this thing. He could tell by Sookie's smell that she had been drained only last night. It meant that while he wandered, Bill Compton had stolen the warmth from her. Eric felt his failure choking him. Always a step too late. Always missing her by so little.

"You need to speak with the boy," Thalia persisted. "Pamela is leaving. She needs to get some distance from you before you harm her."

"I have been selfish," Eric nodded.

"Far be it for me to correct you, but you have done what you could here. Now, go speak with the boy, your boy, and help him prepare." Eric nodded. Thalia could be harsh, but he knew her words sprang from her love of him.

Eric thought about lifting his Sookie from the ground but, without a coffin, he couldn't be certain she would remain intact. He stared at her face. She looked dead, but that was as it should be. Even now, more dead than vampire, Eric could feel the faint vibration that flowed through her. She was turning and in three nights, she would rise.

Eric lifted himself from the grave and returned to Compton's house. As he walked up the broad porch stairs, he saw the second transport with a coffin large enough to hold both of them arriving from Shreveport. The attendants jumped from the truck and then opened the back doors. They pulled the coffin out on its wheeled base.

"Take it there," Eric indicated the fence that separated Compton's property from the wood line. He would place his Lover into their coffin under the cover of trees, not in the house where Compton had stolen her.

When the coffin was where he wanted it, Eric walked into Bill Compton's house again. He found Rubio still resting in the hallway. "You need to speak with your son," his friend told him. There was something in the way Rubio said 'son' that sounded like an accusation, but Eric couldn't concern himself with demanding respect. He followed Rubio's direction to the kitchen and there he found Amy Ludwig and Rick. The boy was crying. Eric could smell it and then, in a move that was unexpected, the boy flung his arms around him.

Eric wasn't surprised when the boy asked if his mother would be all right, but he stunned Eric with what he said next. It hadn't occurred to Eric that Sookie's attitude about becoming a vampire might have changed, but with each word Rick said, Eric realized that her boy believed it.

The boy pointed out that he was a vampire and his Mother couldn't object to being like her own son. It was hearing Rick's words that made Eric realize there wasn't any world in which his Sookie would reject her own child. It just wasn't possible, and that possibility opened the door for other possibilities. For instance, his Sookie might embrace being a vampire, she might decide that forever with him and her child was an acceptable future, and that thought brought hope to Eric in a way he hadn't dared to dream.

Eric took the boy upstairs and found him clothes. The prospect of the trip to New Orleans felt different now. Eric rushed back to the cemetery. He jumped into the grave where his Sookie gleamed in the moonlight, and he lifted her gently in his arms. Cradling her against him, he flew her the short distance to where the coffin waited. The lid was open and he arranged her, taking care to brush the dirt from her eyes and lips. He lifted her hair from her face and pulled a single strand over her shoulder to lay on her breast. "Soon," he whispered and he kissed her still lips.

For the first time, Eric considered the possibility that Sookie might open her eyes and take his hand. He felt hope that she might wish to join him in this world as their forever. Suddenly, Eric could see an existence where Sookie stood at his side and their son and his daughters stood with them.

' _My son_ ,' the phrase ran through his head and he felt the kind of tightening in his chest he'd only felt before when Sookie smiled at him. Eric headed back to the house and when the boy headed downstairs, Eric showered. He would be clean when he went to her. He would smell like himself and not Bill Compton as they started their lives together.

It was with a light heart that Eric walked down the stairs and into the hallway, which was why his son calling him out and accusing him of not communicating stung. "Come with me," he ordered the boy.

Eric could see Rick was embarrassed at having been caught out. His face was ruddy and he hung his head. Once they were outside, Eric crossed his arms and looked down at Rick. "I warned you before about being disrespectful to me in front of others," Eric told him.

"So, what? Are you planning on punishing me? For what? For wanting to know what's going on? For wanting to know the plan? She's my Mom!" he said and then, in a voice that broke, he added, "She's all I've got."

"No," Eric told him, and then he paused, surprised at what he had been about to say and how much he meant the words. Eric leaned toward Rick and laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. "No, she is not all you have. You have me, now. I have claimed you." He waited until Rick looked at him before tightening his grasp a little and saying, "You are my son. You are Sookie's son. You have us both."

Eric could tell that Rick didn't accept his words. Perhaps he couldn't. Looking around, Eric motioned them toward a stone wall. He lowered himself and indicated that Rick should also sit. "You have questions," he told the boy. "I will try to answer them."


	23. Chapter 23 - The Line

**Chapter 23 – The Line**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Within twenty minutes, Eric regretted his offer to answer the boy's questions. When he sat down, the Viking felt warmly toward the youth. ' _My son'_ , he thought. That didn't last long.

Eric anticipated Rick's questions would be mostly about Eric Northman. That's what most humans asked. They wanted to know about his age and they usually asked if he'd been present at various historic events. Those who knew him longer asked about his role in vampire hierarchy.

That was not what Rick asked.

"So, where are you taking my Mom?" the boy demanded. The shamed expression that Rick wore in the house was gone now. The boy's chin was up and his lips were pursed.

"I am taking your Mother back to the Palace in New Orleans," Eric replied. Eric wasn't sure why Rick asked. Pam had already shared this plan with the boy, but Rick seemed intent on verifying the information he'd been given. Rick's eyes lowered and he looked away. Eric nodded. It was good. The boy was satisfied, and Eric found himself thinking of what lay ahead.

Eric thought about the large tub in the royal suite back at the Palace. It would be lined with blankets and bubble wrap to protect and cushion Sookie's body. Eric would spend the next seventy-two hours tending her as she transformed. The blankets would be changed frequently, and Eric would wash her, so she stayed clean. Eric knew what he faced, the smells and the fluids. Eric had joined Pam in the ground during her transformation. By the time he made Pam, he knew that leaving one's progeny alone wasn't the only option open to a Maker. When he'd made Karin, he had only Appius' example to follow and he wondered if some part of Karin's hard nature came from that experience.

Facilitating a turning where dirt wasn't there to absorb the inevitable was not something many Makers did, but Eric couldn't stand the idea of his Sookie, whom he knew struggled with being in darkness, waking up under the ground. He was sure that his staying with her wouldn't be pleasant, but Eric wanted to do this. It was more than the love he felt for her. Eric felt an obligation to Sookie Stackhouse. Had he not ordered the takeover, had he not allowed two nights of score-settling, perhaps Sookie wouldn't have ended up in Compton's hands.

"So, what then? Can I stay with her there?" The questions caught Eric by surprise. The Viking had assumed the boy was done with his questions, but he could see now that wasn't the case. The boy wasn't looking thoughtful. He was looking angry. There was no particular awe or respect in his attitude nor his tone.

"No," Eric answered, and even to his own ears he could hear how short his answer sounded. As soon as the word came out, the King saw Rick's protest forming, so he tried to get ahead of it by adding, "Your Mother will not be conscious. Her body will be changing and she…"

"Will be pretty gross, yeah! I get it!" Rick cut the Viking off. Rick's eyes were hard and his voice got louder. "But why can't I help her? I'm her son. You're…"

"She is mine!" It slipped out. Rick stopped talking, and Eric almost retracted it, seeing the shock on the boy's face, but then he didn't. Eric wasn't sorry he said it. Just hearing the words out loud, how right they sounded, brought a smile to his face. It wasn't for Rick that he added, "And she is mine to care for now."

Rick's look shifted again. If he'd been a cat, his ears would have been laid back. The boy leaned toward Eric and he poked the air with his finger, punctuating his words. "Listen, Buster!" he hissed. "I don't know who you think you are, but where have you been the past twelve years? I'll tell you where! Nowhere! You never came to find us! You never came looking for her! And now you're just going to step in and take over? I don't think so!" The boy was standing, and even his hair seemed to bristle.

"Buster?" It backed Eric up. It was Sookie's word and the Viking found he couldn't be angry with this child. Eric could see that this was anger masking fear, so he tried explaining things so that Rick would understand. "It is more than just the physical transformation. There is the matter of her Maker's death."

"So, what does that mean?" Rick challenged. "Why does Compton's death matter?"

Now Eric stood, too. He tried to remain relaxed as the boy paced, "During the journey from human to vampire, the bond with your Maker is a constant. It pulls you forward." Eric remembered the pull he'd felt as he lay under the ground, his feelings toward Appius Livius Ocella, an impossible tangle of loathing and love. "Because her Maker was killed, there is no pull for Sookie, your Mother. She will feel disoriented…"

"Could it hurt her?" Rick interrupted again. Eric could hear the fear in the boy's voice now. "Mr. Hermosa said sometimes turnings go wrong. Could losing her Maker make things go wrong?"

"Sookie is strong," Eric answered. He felt pleased that the boy was calming down and seemed to be grasping the situation. "She would not have wanted Compton as her Maker. She…"

And the boy turned on him. He pulled himself up to his full height and he glared at Eric. "But this could really screw her up, right?" the boy's voice was rising again. "And you couldn't wait. You had to kill the other guy because…why? Because my Mom is 'yours'? Jeez, you really are an asshole, aren't you?"

Eric felt his eyes go flat. For his enemies, it was the last thing they saw, but this was ridiculous. This boy, Sookie's son, was no threat. He was a child, but he seemed incapable of listening to reason. "You don't know what you're talking about," Eric growled, and he knew he was done talking. There was no end to the child's ignorance and dawn was approaching. There was much to do. "There will be more time for talk later," Eric announced, and turned to walk away.

"Is this what you did to her, too? You'd just tell my Mom what you wanted and leave her guessing about the rest?" Rick challenged.

"I always told your Mother what she needed to know," Eric growled, but the boy's words stung and Eric recognized that feeling when someone had struck too close to a truth the Viking didn't wish to consider.

"Yeah, well, I may be a kid," Rick snarled from behind him, "but I know a lie when I hear one!"

"We are done," Eric said. He found himself walking, then vamping back to Compton's house. The others were waiting. The coffin holding Sookie was now sitting next to the van that would take them to the airport. Eric could hear the boy's feet slapping the ground as he tried to catch up. The prospect of this angry child stomping around the Palace while everyone else rested was not appealing.

"Rubio, I have a favor to ask," Eric leaned over his friend.

"I owe you my life," Rubio replied. "There is nothing you can ask…"

"Pam suggested that Rick…" and Rubio saw something he never thought to see on Eric's face. His King looked guilty. "Pam thought it might be better to have Rick stay with you, just until Sookie completes her transformation. I think it would be a good idea, too," and Eric stopped talking and leaned forward. "I want you to take Rick home with you." Rubio's eyes widened, "I realize this will not be convenient for your wife, but she is human. He is awake during the day. It would not be good for him to be in a vampire palace at this time."

"You don't think…" Rubio started, then seeing Eric's expression, he bowed his head and said, "Of course. I'll call Lily. George is home. They're friends." Rubio glanced past Eric, and the Viking assumed his friend was looking at the rapidly approaching youth. "But, you will arrange for Rick to be in New Orleans in time for his Mother's rising?" Rubio asked.

"I…" and then Eric stopped talking. He felt caught out. When he'd thought about Sookie opening her eyes for the first time as a vampire, he imagined her surrounded with flowers and candles, and in his dream, it was just the two of them.

"I'll bring him to New Orleans," Amy Ludwig spoke up. "I can pick him up and have him in at the Palace in plenty of time." Eric was startled. The Doctor rarely put herself out for anyone, but when he saw the look she was giving him, it made him feel uncomfortable.

Rick reached them and the daggers he was throwing at Eric with his eyes made clear to everyone how well his talk with his Father had gone. "So, what now?" the boy challenged.

"You're coming home with me," Rubio answered.

"What?" Rick stared at Eric and his mouth opened and closed before he could get the words out, "But, my Mom…"

"Is going to New Orleans tonight. Rick, she'll be sleeping for three days," Rubio explained. "She won't be able to communicate. She won't be sure what's going on, and there's going to be a lot of work involved in keeping her comfortable, but don't worry. On the day of her rising, Doctor Ludwig is coming to get you. You will be there in plenty of time to be beside her when she opens her eyes for the first time," and Rubio looked at Eric, clearly waiting for his agreement.

"Yeah, sure," Rick swallowed, his face coloring, "If he lets me be there!" and Rick drilled Eric with his eyes, willing the vampire to feel his fury.

"This is for the best," Eric huffed. It was hard to understand how his talk with the boy had gone so badly. He was sure Sookie wouldn't approve of where things stood between himself and Rick, but he couldn't think of how to fix it. If she were here, Eric was sure Sookie would know what to do, and he found his gaze shifting back to the coffin that held her.

"Of course, you'll be there when she rises," and Thalia stepped forward, placing her hand on Rick's shoulder. It was so unusual for Thalia to interfere, Eric couldn't help staring at her. The others stared as well, but Thalia ignored them all as she told the boy, "Sookie would want to be surrounded by her family. You are her son, and one of us. It is your right to be at her side."

"Of course," Eric stammered. Thalia's words shocked him and he felt doubt. For the first time, the Viking wondered if he was in the wrong and if Rick was the only one Sookie would wish to see. It was a humbling thought.

"I have not explained things as I should," he told Rick. "You are probably right. I'm sure I didn't explain things well to your Mother, either, but this I promise you," and Eric bowed. "I will try to do better. I am not at my best," and Eric couldn't help turning his eyes to the coffin where she rested. "Your Mother's… This turning... While I wish to accept what you have told me, that her beliefs have changed, your Mother told me many times that she never wished to be vampire."

"Then, you don't know her very well," Rick leaned into Thalia, and that gesture caused Eric's chest to clench. "My Mom's a fighter! Nothing gets her down! I have faith in her and you should, too."

Eric looked again at the coffin. ' _He is your son_ ,' he thought. Eric turned back to Rick, "This I pledge to you, I will do what I can to comfort her during her change. I will ease her passage in every way that is within my power but, when it is time, I will make certain yours is the first face she sees." Eric walked over to Rick and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder, "I think she will be most happy to see you," and Eric forced a smile.

"I want to see her before you take her away," Rick had his chin up and his chest thrown out, but his brave front was betrayed by the single tear that slipped over the boy's cheek. On instinct, Eric caught the tear, bringing it to his lips. When he caught Rick's startled look, he nodded.

"Allow me one minute first," Eric told him, then ran away toward the cemetery.

"You okay?" Amy squeezed Rick's arm.

"I don't know," Rick shrugged. "I guess," and he looked away, pulling himself together.

Rick glanced over to where Mr. Hermosa was now sitting in the wheelchair. He was on the phone and he seemed to be talking a lot. Rick was pretty sure it was about him. He remembered George saying how his Mom didn't want the two of them hanging out together anymore, and Rick felt more alone than he had ever felt before.

"You sure can piss him off," Pam walked close beside him. "I'm not sure what you said, but you were under his skin in no time."

"I'm not trying to make him mad," Rick swiped another tear away. "She's my Mom. No one seems to remember that."

"Vampires are possessive," Pam shrugged.

"I'm a vampire," Rick snapped. "And I'm not all grabby, grabby, mine, mine! My Mother taught me to share!"

"Your Mother didn't teach you to be a vampire, then," Pam sniffed.

Thalia nodded at him and looked as if she'd say something else, but then Eric returned. He walked over to the large coffin Rick knew held his mother and raised the lid. He had a blanket Rick assumed he'd taken from his Mother's house. He laid it in the coffin and Rick realized his Mother probably wasn't wearing any clothes and the Viking had considered Rick's feelings long enough to get something to cover her up. Eric's hand hesitated inside the coffin before he looked up, and Rick knew he was being summoned.

With each step, Rick found his feet seemed larger and heavier. He wanted to see her, needed to see her, but he was so worried she'd look different, but she didn't. The face that was there was his Mom's, the same way she looked whenever she fell asleep on the couch…well, almost. "Mom!" he whispered. He didn't bother trying to hide his tears now and his fangs snicked down. It didn't matter. "I love you!" he told her, then he reached out to touch her because he had to know she was real. Her skin was cold, so cold. "It's going to be okay," he said as much for himself as for her. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I'll be there when you wake up. And I know you will! You'll show them all!"

Eric's hand was on his shoulder, "We must go," he told Rick. "Dawn approaches. You will see your Mother in three nights. I have promised you."

Rick leaned over the coffin and kissed his Mom's forehead and then near her eye. His fangs refused to retract, so he could barely feel her skin against his, but the sensitivity of his teeth made him want to rub against her. It was weird and he stood, rubbing his eyes dry. "Three days," Rick told Eric, and then turned and walked away, his back straight.

Rubio was waiting for him next to the transport van. "You ready to go?" Rubio asked. When Rick shrugged, Rubio said, "George is happy you're coming. Would you like to talk with him?" and he held out his phone.

"I'd really like to talk with my Aunt Lora and…" Rick almost said Aunt Fran, but he stopped himself. There were so few people in this world now who wanted him, he thought sadly.

"Where's your phone?" Rubio asked.

"Some thug in New Orleans took it," Rick told him.

"At the Palace?" Thalia was suddenly beside them. When Rick nodded, Thalia brought out her own and texted faster than Rick had ever seen anyone text before. "They will find it if it can be found," she assured him. "In the meantime," she reached into an inside pocket of her jacket, "you may use this one. It has no passcode."

"Thanks," Rick told her, but when he looked up, Thalia was staring away. Rick saw that Pam was also staring in the same direction, and so he looked.

Eric Northman was naked and he was lowering himself into the coffin that held Rick's mom. For a big vampire, the Viking was being very careful in the way he did it. It gave Rick an odd feeling. "Don't judge him too harshly," Thalia said from behind him. "He may tell you she is His, but we know the truth."

"What do you mean?" Rick asked.

"Eric Northman belongs to your Mother," Thalia snorted, "but don't repeat that! It will only make him deny it and that kind of lying isn't good for anyone!"

While they watched, the lid lowered. "He's really going to be with her for three more days?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, three days wrapped around stinky, rotten, changing carcass," Pam snarked.

"Time to go!" Rubio interrupted. "Come on, Rick, we have a ride ahead of us, and I'd like to fall into my day death in my own bed." Pam gave them both a lop-sided smile, and finger-waved once they stepped into the van. There was a travel coffin strapped in the back, but Rubio and Rick sat on the seats affixed to both sides.

"Why don't you call your Aunt Lora?" Rubio suggested. "I'm sure she's been worried about you."

The van started moving. Rick stared at the phone in his hands, not sure he wanted to call without having some privacy, but then Mr. Hermosa moved down a couple seats, and put his own phone to his ear. After Mr. Hermosa shifted to face the back of the van, Rick took a deep breath, pulled out his wallet, and called the first number Aunt Lora's numbers gave him.

The phone only rang twice before his Aunt answered, "Hello?" Rick was startled. It was so late, he figured his Aunt would be sleeping.

Instead, she sounded anxious, so Rick quickly said, "It's me, Aunt Lora. It's…" 

"Rick! Oh, thank God! I was going out of my mind with worry!" she exclaimed. "Are you okay, Honey? Did you find your Mom?"

"I'm fine," Rick nodded, "and we did find her. She's…okay," he said carefully.

"You're not telling me something!" Aunt Lora scolded. "Has she been hurt? Has your Mom been injured somehow?"

"I don't think it's that, exactly," Rick stammered. "She's going to be a vampire, though." He said it as though it was no big thing, but as the shock of tonight wore off, it occurred to Rick that it was a big thing. It meant things would change for all of them.

"Oh," Aunt Lora said once, and then, "Oh," again. Rick figured Aunt Lora was thinking it was a big thing, too. Then she said, "I have someone here who wants to talk with you."

"What did you tell your Aunt?" Aunt Fran demanded. "She looks like her dog got run over by a car!"

"Aunt Fran?" Rick stammered, his voice loud enough that Mr. Hermosa turned and looked at him. "Aunt Fran!" Rick repeated, his voice lower, "You're there? You're all right?"

"Well, you're talking to me, aren't you?" his Aunt challenged.

"Where are you?" Rick asked.

"In my own house," Aunt Fran answered, as if Rick was being foolish to ask. "I didn't like the hospital and they didn't like me, so they kicked me out." Rick was pretty sure that wasn't the case, but then his Aunt went on to say, "That Doctor Ludwig is pure evil. She wasn't ready to let me go, and so here I am! So," then his Aunt's voice dropped, "why don't you tell your Godmother what happened?"

"Mom was turned," Rick said.

"Did Eric Northman do it?" Fran snapped.

"What? No!" Rick exclaimed, "No, it was some vampire she knew from before. She got captured, somehow. We were looking for her. I found my Father, Eric, I mean, and we drove all over Louisiana." Rick swallowed, then he hunched down into himself, "Aunt Fran? I was so scared. I thought for sure she was dead, and I'd never see her again."

"But she isn't dead, is she?" Fran's voice was strong over the phone. Rick could almost see his Aunt's dark eyes, challenging him.

"No," he shook his head, "No, she's not, but she's on her way to New Orleans and I'm going to stay with Mr. Hermosa."

"Why aren't you with your Mother?" Fran demanded.

"Because Eric thought it would be better for me to be with humans until she rises. Doctor Ludwig says she'll come and get me so I can be there for…you know."

"Your Father decided to send you away?" Fran asked. She used that tone she got when she wanted to give a person the chills.

"I'll be okay," Rick said weakly. "George Hermosa will be there. At least I'll have someone to talk to."

"Why aren't you talking with your Father?" Fran asked.

"He's not a good talker," The more Rick talked about it, the more miserable he felt.

"Well, then, your Father is an asshole!" Fran declared, and Rick laughed out loud to hear his Aunt use the same word he had. "Seriously, Sweetheart, how are you doing?"

"Not great," Rick admitted. "I miss home. I miss my Mom. I miss being with people who want me around." Fran took in a sharp breath and Rick worried that she'd had another episode. "Aunt Fran? Are you okay? It's not that bad! Really, it's not. It's just been a really long night and I'm tired. It'll be okay."

"Stop bullshitting me!" Fran growled, and Rick realized she was angry. "It's bad enough you break every rule and go high-tailing it down there, and there will be repercussions for that, by the way. You make it all the way, find your Father, and he's mean to you?"

"Not mean, exactly," Rick shrugged. "He… He just doesn't seem to have a lot of time for me. I don't think he knows what to do about me. Everyone down here keeps telling me he isn't himself, that Mom being missing, and then turned is distracting him, or something."

"Everyone?" Aunt Fran asked.

"Everyone, like Pam and Doctor Ludwig and Thalia."

"You've met the famous Thalia?" Aunt Fran asked. It was hard to impress Aunt Fran, but Rick could tell that Thalia did it. "And you've met Pam? She's your sister, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Rick nodded, "Her and B'etor."

"Who?" Aunt Fran asked.

"Lursa and B'etor. My evil step-sisters, you know, from Star Trek."

Aunt Fran was laughing, "I know who Lursa and B'etor are!" she chuckled. "I'm just trying to figure out how you know about them!"

Fran knew Rick did not grow up with a television, but Rick laughed, "George! He talks about that show all the time, so I made him stream it for me. I had to! It was self-defense!"

"I get it," Fran chuckled, "and as for Karin and Pam? I guess they do have the teeth in common." After a moment, she said, "I guess you're telling me the vampire side of your family isn't exactly welcoming you with open arms."

"I wouldn't call them family," Rick shrugged.

"Well, then, there's the answer," Fran told him. "You hold tight. I'll be making a few calls of my own. If there's one thing I know about your Mother, it's the importance of being with people she considers family, and from what you're telling me, we're it. It will take a little bit to get this organized, but I'm coming to Louisiana."

"Do you think you should?" Rick asked. "I mean, you sound good, really good. I was so scared for you. If something were to happen… Do you really think you should travel?"

"I do sound better," Aunt Fran cackled. "And I feel better, too. That Doctor Ludwig found me some kind of magic potion in her bag of tricks, and while I won't say I'm dancing, I'm getting around again."

"I'm really glad you feel better," Rick said softly, "but don't put yourself out for me. I'll be okay." He felt his throat catch a little on the lie he was telling. "I miss you," he told her.

"Well, you won't be missing me for long," Fran assured him. "I miss you, too," and she disconnected the line.

"I could chew nails," Fran snarled to Lora. "Can you imagine the balls on that bastard? His own flesh and blood… Sookie's flesh and blood, and he's dumped him with strangers!"

"The Hermosas aren't strangers," Lora replied, but her voice was still strained, "They are George's parents. You know, George, Rick's best friend from school."

"He's not with his Mother," Fran growled, "and that's what counts." Fran pulled the blanket around her legs. She hated the wheelchair, but she hated being stuck in bed more. "Call Amy Ludwig," When Lora looked startled, Fran barked, "Get her! She offered me that hoo-doo juice and I'm ready to take it!"

"It's addictive," Lora cautioned. "You know what she said!"

"Oh, please!" Fran scoffed, "Like at my age I'm worried about becoming a junkie? I should so live long! All I need is to get where I want to go and right now, that place is with my Godson in New Orleans."

 **xxxXXXxxx**

The van pulled up to a regular white house in a regular suburban neighborhood. The lights were on inside and there was a light on over the garage, illuminating the driveway. Rick's eyes felt as if they had sand in them, and Mr. Hermosa looked exhausted, too. Almost before the van stopped, the front door opened, and Mrs. Hermosa walked out with George right behind her.

The van driver got out and walked around, but Mrs. Hermosa pulled open the van door, meeting her husband as he walked down the steps. "Rubio!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek.

"I'm fine, Lily, just tired," Mr. Hermosa purred. He turned a little and said, "You remember Rick."

"Hey, Bro!" George greeted from behind his Mother.

"Hey," Rick returned the greeting. It was good to see George, but Rick held back, not wanting to get his friend in more trouble.

Mrs. Hermosa detached herself from Mr. Hermosa, though, and wrapped her arms around Rick. "I owe you big time!" she told the boy. "Thank you for finding my husband!"

It wasn't the reception Rick anticipated, and he blushed a little. "It wasn't…"

"Well, it just was!" Mrs. Hermosa cut him off, then hugged him again. She released him and wrapped her arm around Mr. Hermosa's waist, "Now, let's get inside before we wake the neighbors." She looked at Rubio, "I have donors here and that's your first stop."

Mr. Hermosa looked shocked. "Lily, I couldn't!" he exclaimed.

"Don't you give me any crap about this, Rubio Hermosa!" she scolded. "You need blood, and lots of it to flush that silver out of your system. Doctor Ludwig and I had a long talk. Just think of it as taking your medicine, and I'll be right there, so it's not breaking any promises."

Mr. Hermosa stopped walking just short of the door. He pulled Mrs. Hermosa close and nuzzled her. There was no other word for it. Rick and George stopped short, too, and Rick could hear the adults whispering to each other. After a few moments, Mrs. Hermosa just laughed and pushed against Mr. Hermosa, "No such thing!" she protested. "Besides, you wouldn't let our guest eat by himself, would you?"

Rick was shocked, but Mrs. Hermosa gave him a warm look and George pulled at his arm. They walked into a small living room. It was furnished nicely, not Rick's style, but homey. There were two people sitting there and they both rose. "It will probably be easier in the dining room," Mrs. Hermosa was saying. "Rick? Would you like some human food, too? I have some leftover pulled pork and I could make you up a sandwich."

Rick's stomach squeezed, but his fangs were itching more. "That's okay," he lisped. "I'm pretty tired. I can wait for later."

Lily waved the two people Rick knew were donors toward the dining room, and they both took a seat on the wooden chairs. Mr. Hermosa walked behind the man, leaving a young, attractive woman for Rick. George was staring, but he left after Mrs. Hermosa called him out to the kitchen. "You know what to do?" Mr. Hermosa asked.

Rick nodded, "Eric showed me." He leaned over, licked the woman's neck, and her scent tickled his nose. When he sank his fangs into her, Rick felt her shift a little and he worried he'd hurt her, but then she made a noise that didn't sound hurt at all. Rick was standing close to the back of the chair and he became hard. It was difficult to concentrate, her blood was so appealing, but he slowed down and counted to calm himself, pulling out his fangs, and licking her neck.

The woman's head leaned back, her eyes closed. "Too bad you're so young," she sighed. Rick pressed himself against the back of the chair, enjoying the sensation. Then he caught Mr. Hermosa's eyes watching him. Rick felt embarrassed and his reaction faded a bit.

"I appreciate you coming so late," Mr. Hermosa was saying. "There will be a generous tip for both of you on the account."

"Happy to help," the man said, and he and the woman left through the front door.

George and Lily came back into the room, and Mrs. Hermosa said, "George, why don't you show Rick where he'll be sleeping?" George motioned and Rick followed him down a hall to a room where there was a single bed and decorations aimed for a much younger child.

"We figured you'd be more comfortable in Frank's room," George told him. "Maddie's room is vomit pink and filled with Disney Princesses. I thought it would have been perfect for you, but Mom thinks this one is better," and George laughed.

"Yeah, thanks," Rick stammered. There were pajamas already on the bed, and Rick looked around, needing to find a bathroom.

When he looked back, it was to find George smirking at him, "That for me?" Rick's friend teased, pointing at Rick's pants.

"Shut up!" Rick growled. "It happens!"

"She was hot," George smirked.

"She was old enough to be…"

"What? Cougar bait?" and George laughed. When Rick opened his mouth to protest, George held up his hand, "Okay! I'll stop. Look, it's late and it looks like you really have to take care of that thing. Bathroom is second door on the right, and wipe it off the shower wall before you leave. I don't need my Mom having to take care of that."

"You're a dickhead!" Rick dropped into their usual insulting banter.

"Butthole," George answered. "Seriously though, thanks for finding my Dad. He told my Mom he wouldn't have made it much longer. You saved him."

"You'd have done the same for me," Rick shrugged. George nodded, and Rick grabbed the pajamas and headed to the bathroom. He turned the shower to hot, leaned against the shower wall with one hand while he handled himself with the other. It didn't take long. It never did, but as he recovered, panting, the night came back to him. ' _Interesting times_ ,' ran through his mind and he knew why the Chinese proverb called it a curse.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Rick figured it was pretty late when he opened his eyes. The bedroom was flooded with indirect light. Buzz Lightyear was staring at him from the bookshelf across the room. There was a Lego Star Wars vehicle he recognized as Jango Fett's Slave One hanging from the ceiling. Things were quiet around him and it occurred to Rick that this kind of quiet would be how every day was in a vampire house. Then he heard a noise and knew somewhere in the house, someone was moving, and it made him feel better.

There were some fresh clothes on the dresser, George's probably, but the pants were too small. Rick pulled on the pants Eric had found him at the Compton house and the new shirt. He almost left the room before remembering to make his bed. He picked up his clothes off the floor and folded those, too, then made his way to the hallway and back toward the main part of the house.

Mrs. Hermosa was standing at an island in the kitchen, drinking coffee, and looking at something on her notepad. "Hungry?" she smiled.

"Always," Rick shrugged.

"I have another donor coming for you in about an hour, then there will be more when Mr. Hermosa rises. In the meantime, there's some bagged blood in the refrigerator. Or, I could make you some scrambled eggs." Rick had to hand it to her. She rattled off the choices like it was no big thing, and from what he could see, it wasn't.

"Eggs would be great," he told her. As she moved around the kitchen, Rick did open the refrigerator door. Mrs. Hermosa had cleared out a vegetable drawer and there were the familiar blood bank bags in stacks. He took one out and headed to the microwave on the counter. Mrs. Hermosa pulled out a glass and set it on the counter beside him, and just kept going, whisking eggs in a bowl, and asking if he'd like to watch some television.

"That's okay," Rick told her, and it struck him again how normal everything felt. Even when he'd been in Chester, it hadn't felt quite like this. Rick had restricted his blood drinking to his room. There was never any talk of donors. It was as if his being part vampire was a secret he kept with his Mom, and he guessed it was. It hadn't occurred to Rick that there was anything wrong or strange about how they lived until now.

"Where's George?" he asked as he sipped the warmed blood.

"My Mom, his Gran, came home with me. She doesn't get to see him much, so this was a good excuse for them to visit." Mrs. Hermosa glanced at the clock, and Rick realized it was already past noon. "They went out to the mall for a bit. There's a game place down there. George waited, but I figured you needed your sleep."

"Thanks," Rick mumbled, then "Thanks," again when she slid a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast in front of him.

"So, you know you boys are in some trouble," Mrs. Hermosa said, her eyebrow raised.

"My Aunt Lora is pretty mad," Rick nodded. "I'm sorry we worried you."

"I didn't mean me or your family," Mrs. Hermosa replied. "Your school is not happy about your little stunt. You are both on academic probation. They could have expelled both of you, but, under the circumstances, they've decided that you can get yourselves back on track by attending summer school."

Rick's fork suspended mid-motion. "Oh," he said. School. Chester.

"What is it?" Mrs. Hermosa asked.

"I don't know," Rick stammered, "I guess I don't know if I'll be going back at all," and suddenly he didn't feel hungry and the blood in his stomach roiled.

It all seemed too much, and Rick stared out through the window over the sink. How could he go back to his regular life now? His Mom couldn't live in the house in Chester anymore. They'd be vampires living in a place where there were no vampires, and then there was Eric. He didn't look as if he'd be willing to move, and Rick didn't think he'd be wanting his Mom to go too far away. Rick remembered the way his Mom looked when she returned from Denver, the way she'd stare off and smile, and he had a feeling she wouldn't be too anxious to leave the big vampire, either.

Rick thought about Chester, the trees and the music and all his friends. Almost every good memory he had was made in that place. They danced every May 1st for his birthday, and he knew where he fit into his life there. Now, it was all different, and Rick swallowed, trying hard not to cry in front of Mrs. Hermosa.

Mrs. Hermosa walked up behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder, "I don't think you should worry too much," she told him. "Just because your Mom is becoming a vampire, it isn't the end of the world. One thing I am sure about, your Mom is going to want to do what's best for you. She won't make decisions that would hurt you."

"But, everything's changed now," Rick said carefully.

"Why? Because she's becoming a vampire? People do. It's not like the old days. No one expects vampires to give up their families and live apart any more, and I don't think your Mom would anyway. I saw how she was with you, and I know what my kids tell me. You are the most important thing to her, and that's not going to change."

Rick shrugged, "Becoming a vampire does seem like a big thing," he said gloomily. He'd been thinking it for awhile now, and saying it out loud made the thought sting a little less.

"I suppose it is," Mrs. Hermosa told him, "but we do lots of big things in our lives. We buy houses. We get married. We have children. That doesn't mean we leave our pasts behind. You know," and she pushed the plate toward him, urging him to start eating again, "Mr. Hermosa and I have a plan. George and all our children can tell you about it. When Frank graduates high school, Mr. Hermosa is going to turn me. Our kids will be able to drive and there won't be so many things that will be daytime-only events then." Mrs. Hermosa clasped Rick's hand and squeezed, "Of course, I want to be with Mr. Hermosa forever. I love him just as much as your Mom loves your Father, but our children come first. Now, your circumstances are a little different. Your Mom's turning wasn't when she chose, but sometimes those things happen. What I don't doubt is that once she rises, she'll figure out how to make this work best for you."

It made Rick feel a little better, the way she said it. When he started eating again, Mrs. Hermosa said, "It's not as hard as it seems. What I do know is that when I married Mr. Hermosa, I had each of my babies tell me what things were most important, what things they felt were the things that made them happy. That way, Mr. Hermosa and I were able to plan around those." Mrs. Hermosa picked up a pad of paper from the counter and a pen and set it down beside him.

"Why don't you make a list? That way, when your Mother rises, you can let her know what things matter most to you. It will help her figure out how to organize things, so that everyone is happy. Now, there will need to be compromises. For one thing, she can't come out in daylight anymore."

"I know that," Rick said, but as he said the words, the real meaning of them started to sink in. His Mother wouldn't be able to watch the sunrise with him for May Day. She wouldn't be able to sit with him on the dock at home, watching the sun dance on the waves.

Mrs. Hermosa must had seen it, because she said, "It's good to know in your own head what matters most, and you have some time to figure that out. There's a nice covered patio out back and the day is warm. You want to head out there to work on it?"

Rick walked his dishes to the dishwasher, then headed out with the paper and pen. As he settled, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from his Aunt Lora. She and Aunt Fran would be flying to New Orleans tomorrow, and Amy Ludwig wasn't coming for him; Uncle Desmond was. He would be there first thing in the morning, and the text asked him to inform his hosts.


	24. Chapter 24 - Across the River

**Chapter 24 – Across the River**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

"It's been nice having you here," Lily laid her hand on Rick's shoulder. They were all in the family room. Gran had gone to bed, complaining George ran her ragged at the arcade. George's Gran seemed nice enough, but Rick could hear her thoughts, and they weren't all happy. She liked Mr. Hermosa well enough, but she wished her daughter had found a better father for her children, by that she meant someone not a vampire. It was just as well she'd gone to bed. The donors came soon after, and Rick could tell having humans come to provide blood was causing some tension between Lily and her Mom.

"Have you heard from your Father?" Lily asked.

Rick shook his head. A part of him hadn't expected to, but another part was disappointed just the same.

"Don't read anything into it," Mr. Hermosa told him. "My bet is your Father is very busy. He is just made King and that requires many things to happen. He needs to affirm his Sheriffs and establish his place early, or other vampires might get ideas." Rick saw Mrs. Hermosa shoot Mr. Hermosa a sharp look. He could hear her worry that Rubio would be given an important position, one that would place him in the line of more danger.

Mr. Hermosa had looked gray when he walked up from the basement tonight. He explained it was a side-effect of silver poisoning, and it would take some time before all the silver was gone from his system. He told Rick that a Maker's blood, or a sibling's blood from the same Maker would help speed his recovery, "In my case, I was the only vampire my Maker had the time to create. He fell to his final death shortly after making me. We had less than a hundred years together."

"Was he kind?" Rick asked. Rick was getting the impression most Makers were not kind. It sounded to Rick like a vampire was better off killing his or her Maker, and that didn't sound promising.

"He was a kind man," Rubio assured him, "He had been a vampire for a very long time, but never felt the need to create another until he found me. He considered turning me a sacred calling, and he took his time preparing me for this life." Rick filed that idea away, the one that vampires had some kind of signal telling them who to turn.

"So, what is the best thing about being a vampire?" Rick asked. It was something he wanted to know, for both himself and his Mom, for after.

"Blood bonds," Mr. Hermosa grinned. He took Mrs. Hermosa's hand in his, "We are tied together now, and the intimacy you gain with a person through a true blood bond is a powerful thing." He raised his wife's hand to his lips and Rick could see their happiness. It was like a living presence in the room with them, and then Mr. Hermosa's eyes shifted, and the sensation dimmed.

"When you take blood from a person, you have that moment when you feel connected to them," he told Rick. Rick nodded. He had noticed it. At first, he thought it was his telepathy, but then he realized the experience was different. It was more like a brief glance at a snapshot of the person. It faded quickly, and Rick now found he could almost ignore it. "Well, imagine that experience, but a hundred times stronger with someone you love who loves you in return. It is as if you are one person. You feel their care for you. You know when they're worried, and you can send that person the strength they need when they need it. When that person thinks warm thoughts, it warms you. Before I bonded, I would have told you a hundred other things, but now? Now there is only one thing that matters."

"Jeez, Dad!" George rolled his eyes.

"Someday I hope you find someone you feel as strongly about as I feel about your Mother," Mr. Hermosa said, his voice reasonable.

"You must be anxious to get to New Orleans," Mrs. Hermosa added, returning them to a more neutral topic. "I'm sure you're anxious to see your Father again."

"Eric?" Rick shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"I have known your Father for a long time," Mr. Hermosa told Rick, "and I can tell you he is not himself. I've never seen him so…shaken."

"The Viking?" Mrs. Hermosa sat back. "Every story I've ever heard about Eric Northman has him three steps ahead of the other guy." She turned to Rick, "I have to tell you, I may have a little crush on your Father. I've only met him a handful of times, but he can knock the breath from any girl! And the way he loves your Mother! Oh!" Mr. Hermosa was looking fondly at his wife, but George made a gagging sound.

"Scoff all you want," Mrs. Hermosa waved her hand, then turned to Rick and leaned forward, "but you are the product of a true love story. Your Mom and Dad are legend. I think every human who's ever loved a vampire knows their story. Indira told me about how they met and their courtship. I've heard all about their troubles, and then, when he went off to Oklahoma and your Mother disappeared. Some think she was running away from her broken heart. And now, they're back together and there's you! Do you have any idea what a miracle you are? You watch! Some smart person is going to turn your story into a TV mini-series, it's just that good."

George was groaning and Mr. Hermosa shook his head as he said, "Lily, you may be over-romanticizing this a bit."

"Don't listen to them!" Mrs. Hermosa leaned over and patted Rick's knee. "I'm telling you, your parents were meant to be together. When I think that I met the famous Sookie Stackhouse when she was hiding out in Chester! We cooked together and everything!"

"Mom told me about how they met, her and Eric," Rick was embarrassed, but it felt good to talk about it. "She said she was with someone else then…"

"Bill Compton," Mr. Hermosa supplied. "He's the vampire who staked me and turned her. He never accepted losing her to the King. Compton was a creepy little shit…" Mrs. Hermosa hissed, and Mr. Hermosa shrugged, "Sorry, Lily. He was a creepy, little, back-stabbing shit." The boys laughed and Lily did, too, then moved to sit next to her husband, so she could lay her head on his shoulder. "We saw him, your Mother and me, in Denver at the Summit. I could see there was something off about how he was looking at her, but your Mom was sure it was just the old jealousy. It made sense at the time."

Lily settled back before saying, "You know your Father has always had a reputation. Part of it is because he is among the oldest of the vampires, maybe the oldest. Of course, he couldn't be King back then, but still, no one could understand why he didn't have a more powerful position. Pam, your sister, she told me your Father liked having influence without all the entanglements of politics."

"Why couldn't he be a King then?" Rick asked.

"Because Eric's Maker was still walking," Rubio said.

"Wow!" George exclaimed, "If the Viking is a thousand-years-old, how old was his Maker?"

"Ancient," Rubio answered. "I met him when he came to Shreveport. The power rolled from him. It was like electricity. You could sense him before he came into the room."

"I wish I had met him," Lily said.

"No," Rubio's face became grave, "No, you don't. He was also the most evil vampire I ever met. Appius Livius Ocella! He started his vampire life as a Roman Centurion. Who knows how many lives he took as a human, but as a vampire? You could feel the blood of centuries surrounding him." He looked at Rick, "That your Father survived and didn't become twisted is a testament to his character. Thalia told me his time with Appius was brutal. That can warp a vampire. I think it's part of the reason Compton became the way he was. His Maker was a psychopath."

"Mustapha Khan told me Appius killed Eric's dayman," Rick volunteered. "He also told me that Appius sold Eric into some kind of slavery."

"The contract," Lily nodded. "Eric's Maker couldn't stand that his child was married to a human."

"But that's all changed now, right?" George asked. "I mean, no one gives you a hard time because you're married."

Lily looked away before meeting George's eyes, "It is better than it was, but there are still some people, humans and vampires, who can't accept us," and she circled her finger to include herself and Rubio.

"It isn't a problem most of the time," Mr. Hermosa added. "But it did factor into our wish to send you children to boarding school. We didn't want you to ever see yourselves through those eyes."

"What happened to him?" Rick interrupted. "My Father's Maker?"

Rubio smiled wide, "The way I heard it, Rick, your Mother staked him. Right in the front yard of her own home."

George whistled, "Jeez, Rick! Your Mom is one bad ass!"

Mrs. Hermosa made a scolding noise and cautioned about 'language.' Rick looked out the dark window and said out loud another thought that had been circling in his head, "I feel like in some ways, I'm meeting a whole new side of Mom. When we were at home, before all of this, she told me she ran over a vampire with her car and killed him."

"Sigebert," Rubio chuckled, "The story I heard was that she hit him, threw the car in reverse, and hit him again."

"I think we've had enough talk about killing for one night," Mrs. Hermosa interrupted in a tone that was clear.

"Just one more," George begged, then turned to his Father, and asked, "If Bill Compton was such a problem, why didn't someone end him before?"

"Compton was working for the Queen who ruled here then. He was her procurer," and he glanced at Rick, "and your Mother was his assignment. The Queen had been told about your Mother's gift, and she ordered Bill Compton to come up here and find out if it was true. If he could prove that Sookie Stackhouse was telepathic, he was ordered to bring her back to New Orleans, and deliver her to Queen Sophie-Ann LeClerq."

"Did he?" Rick asked.

"Of course not," Mrs. Hermosa answered.

"Why not?" George asked.

"Eric Northman!" Mrs. Hermosa exclaimed. "From the minute your Father saw your Mother, he was captured. She sassed him and defied him, and he couldn't get over her. Pam told me it was love at first sight, at least for him. She said she thought your Mom was pretty well captured, too, but you know your Mom! She fought it every step of the way."

"Mom told me they were married," Rick said.

"They were, by vampire standards," Mr. Hermosa nodded. "Pledged by the knife."

"But not everyone accepted it," Mrs. Hermosa added. "For one thing, they weren't really living together. That had folks saying their marriage was really about your Father securing your Mom, so he could use her gift. That story was easier for vampires to believe. The great Eric Northman led armies and business ventures. He made things happen and he did what he needed to do to succeed and marrying some lowly human just so he could have exclusive use of her telepathy, well, that fit everyone's ideas a little better."

"No one could believe he loved a human," Mr. Hermosa added. "After all, he was the Viking, the North Man. A thousand years and countless adventures. To fasten himself to a human for love was…well, just not done, but all you had to do was watch them, and you knew."

Lily laughed, "Indira told me there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for your Mom. Did your Mom ever tell you about the time your Father went to a party dressed in a pink leotard and pretended to be gay just because she asked him?" Rick shook his head.

"The things he did for her weren't all foolish," Mr. Hermosa shook his head. "There were things Eric did that were more serious as well." Mr. Hermosa looked directly at Rick, "How much do you know about your Fae relatives?"

"Only that we're part Fae. I got the impression it was a kind of big thing, and Mom told me something about having a spark. She said she can't tell if I have it, but she said it like it was important." Rick looked away, "And Mustapha Khan told me about the cluviel dor and how Mom used it for another man."

"You are related to the last known ruler of the Fae, Niall Brigant. He is Prince of the Sky Fae," Mr. Hermosa seemed impressed just to be saying it.

"What are Fae?" George asked.

"They are not in this world anymore," Mr. Hermosa explained. "They left shortly before Sookie," and he looked at Rick, "before your Mom left Louisiana, but, for awhile they were very active."

"So, what are they?" George persisted.

"Fairies," Rubio clarified.

"What? With little flowers and wings?" George snorted.

Mr. Hermosa's face became serious, "They would like you to believe that," he told his son. "No, they are, in fact, the fiercest of races. They are formidable warriors, and lethal in their hatreds. They are prickly about manners and quick to anger. They are pure magic, every part of them. Their curse or their favor are serious matters."

"And Rick is related to them?" George looked impressed.

"Rick is descended from their royalty," Mr. Hermosa nodded, "and his Mom is why we almost got dragged into a war. Niall Brigant was fighting with his nephew for rule of the Fae. Your Mother was taken by Niall's enemies. They intended to kill her and leave her as a warning to Niall, but first, they tortured her."

"Tortured?" Rick gasped.

"They held her for days. When she was rescued, she was badly damaged. Pam told me some of the injuries never fully healed, despite all the vampire blood ladled into them," and Lily's eyes were kind.

"Mom wouldn't tell me how she got those scars on her legs," Rick said. "There's some on her back, too. To tell you the truth, they looked like bite marks. Do you think that's what happened?"

"I don't know," Rubio told Rick. "What I do know is that when she was kidnapped, Eric knew. So did Victor Madden, the vampire who was running the kingdom for Felipe de Castro. He had Eric captured and bound in silver in the basement of Fangtasia. Your parents were bonded. Eric felt everything she did, and he was in a fury to escape and get to her. He roared so loudly they had to shut down the club."

"Why did Victor do that? What was it to him?" George asked.

"Victor Madden knew if Eric Northman killed a Fae, it would drag the vampires into the Fae War. Fae take no prisoners. If Niall's enemies had won, there wouldn't be one vampire left by the time they were finished, so Victor did what he had to do to keep Eric out of it."

"Even if it meant Mrs. Hale had to die," George said the obvious.

"She was human," Rubio nodded, "so Victor felt her life wasn't worth the risk."

"So, what happened?" Rick asked.

"Pam convinced some of those guarding your Father to let him go. Eric took his right hand, a vampire named Clancy, and he marched to where Sookie was hiding. He fought there beside Niall Brigant and he saved your Mother."

"He didn't care if he started a war," Rick was surprised. This didn't sound like a vampire who would dump his Mom only a year later.

"No, he didn't," Mrs. Hermosa smiled. "Nothing mattered more than your Mom to him," and she smiled at Mr. Hermosa in a way that said she felt the same way about him.

Rick remembered George telling him that Mr. Hermosa thought the real reason they fell apart was his Mother's inability to accept vampires. "I know you're thinking my Mom won't be happy she's been turned," Rick looked at Mr. Hermosa. "You're not the only one. Seems like most people feel that way, but I know you're wrong. My Mom is going to be okay with this. See, she's tough and she figures things out. I've never seen her stay sad for long. When I get down about something, she's right there, telling me to turn things a little bit to see the silver lining. Sure, growing up in Chester has been pretty good, but we've had our problems, too. Pipes freeze. People complain. But, Mom? She never lets it get her down, or me, either. She's going to accept this. You'll see."

Rubio glanced at George, and then at Lily, "I'm sure you're right," he said at last.

Mrs. Hermosa added, "I know your Mother loves you. There's nothing like children to change how you see the world. Maybe she did grow up thinking vampires were scary or wrong, but I believe people can change, too. I know I'm not the same person I was before George and Maddie and Frank came along. I know you made your Mom grow, too, every minute you've been alive. I thought I was happy before I had babies, but it's nowhere near how happy I am now. I would bet good money your Mom feels the same way."

Later as he sat on the edge of George's bed, George chuckled, "I can't believe your Mom is some serial killer warrior princess."

"Yeah," Rick shook his head. "Go figure." He kept seeing his Mom in her Birkenstocks, helping to make beds and can tomatoes. She had a soft smile for everyone and she laughed along when people complained about her singing. But then, Rick remembered other times when her temper would flare and he'd see something hard in her eyes, and he realized there was more to his Mom than he knew, and it made him feel hopeful.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

Mr. Cataliades looked skinny. His suit fit him, but he was thinner than Rick had ever seen him and that looked odd.

"Thank you, again, for taking Rick in," he was telling Mrs. Hermosa. "We consider this a great favor and it won't be forgotten. Rick will be staying at Maison de Ville in the Quarter with his Aunts," and the attorney bowed and presented a card with phone numbers.

"Now, Rick, don't you forget this," and Mrs. Hermosa handed Rick the yellow pad of paper he'd used to list things yesterday.

"Thanks again," Rick stammered, "for everything. And tell Mr. Hermosa thanks for me, too."

"See you soon," George told him, and the friends looked at each other, neither having to say, ' _as long as our parents figure it out._ ' There was change in the air, and both knew there was a possibility they wouldn't see each other again for a long time.

"Give me some sugar!" Mrs. Hermosa added, and stepping forward, wrapped Rick in her arms. "Don't you worry!" she whispered in his ear. "I have such a good feeling about this!"

He thanked everyone again, and then Rick followed Mr. Cataliades to the black sedan idling in the driveway. There were a couple neighbors out staring, and Mrs. Hermosa looked up, smiled, and waved at them before leaning into the car to say, "Text us when you get there."

"You look pretty bad," Rick told his Uncle Desmond as the sedan pulled into the street.

"I'm getting better," the attorney replied.

"Have you heard anything about my Mom?" Rick asked.

Mr. Cataliades eyebrows came together, "No, and I assumed you had news of her from the Palace."

"Nope," Rick shook his head, "Nothing."

"I am very disappointed in Mr. Northman," the attorney shook his head. "I believe your Aunt was correct and it's a good thing we've come."

"Can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer it if you don't want to. It's just that you were here," and Rick took a breath. "You knew my Mom was here. Why couldn't you have warned her?"

"I didn't know anything about the takeover," Mr. Cataliades replied. "I did suspect that Felipe was here to cause mischief, but I couldn't foresee how swiftly things would move. When I realized what was happening, I couldn't call her," and the attorney looked sad. "Do you blame me for her being turned?"

"No," and Rick shook his head. "It wasn't your fault, it's just…this changes so much."

"It has been a most painful lesson about the dangers of arrogance," Mr. Cataliades told Rick. He was looking out the window of the car. "I was so certain that I could trust what I took from the heads of others." He turned to Rick now, "And let it be a lesson to you, too. Hearing everything around you can place you in a better position to make decisions, but there is always the risk of someone out there who is better at spying than you."

"What happened to you?" Rick asked. This was, after all, Uncle Desmond. He showed up with random gifts and watched the Maypole dancing every year. He mostly spent time with Rick's Mom, but he was kind to Rick, too.

"The former King, Felipe de Castro, was able to determine that I could read thoughts. Now, looking back on it, I think he'd been suspicious for years and he used people and circumstances to test his theory. You never met him, but most people discounted him. The King would dress in capes and make grandiose statements. It made him seem clown-ish. Even I was gulled into a false sense of security."

"So, he tricked you?" Rick asked.

"He caught me," the attorney nodded, "and then he used that information to blackmail me. He found a witch who could bind me and my abilities. It was…"

"Really mean?" Rick interrupted.

"Humiliating," Mr. Cataliades corrected. "It kept me on a short leash. I couldn't trust what I heard. Felipe fed humans enough misdirection through glamour that I was never quite sure what I could believe. It was torture." The attorney smiled, "I'm sure I'm going to have to give an accounting to your Aunt as well. She has made clear she's not pleased with me."

"Aunt Fran can be a real bitch," Rick smiled wryly, "It's why I love her so much."

The attorney's eyes narrowed, "You really do look like him, you know."

"Who? Eric?" Rick asked. He knew that's who his Uncle meant, so he shrugged. "People keep telling me that, but I don't see it. He doesn't either."

"I will make a confession," the attorney's face was grave. "It has been your resemblance to your Father that has kept me from feeling as close to you as I should. You are, after all, my friend, Fintan's family. You are his legacy, although I can't believe he would have ever have thought that his bloodline would include vampires."

"You don't like vampires much, do you?" Rick's question was more of a statement.

"I don't like some vampires," the attorney corrected, "I generally don't think about the rest."

"Which camp does my Father fall into?" Rick was pretty sure he knew, but he wanted to hear it.

"The first," the attorney confirmed, "but I can see I must change my thinking about this. With your Mother's change, it is inevitable that she will remain with him now."

Rick was quiet for a minute. The attorney was saying out loud the one thing Rick feared most, that he and his Mother wouldn't return to Chester, and that thought made Rick's chest squeeze in an uncomfortable way. Rather than continue to focus on the thought of losing his home, Rick asked something else that occurred to him, "Are you jealous of Eric? I mean, you never looked like you were interested in my Mom, but…"

"You are misinterpreting!" the attorney leaned back, and even smiled. "No, my feelings for your Mother are not like that! I have known her since she was a baby. No, my interests in your Mother are because of my friendship with your Great-Grandfather. Fintan Brigant was my best friend as George Hermosa is yours, but we knew each other for ages. Fintan knew my wife and my children. I teased him about finding a wife of his own, but he wasn't interested in any woman until he met your Great-Grandmother, Adele. She was much like your Mother is now, fierce, beautiful. She knew her own mind. He loved her, but he knew his alliance with her put her and their children in great peril. The Fae hated hybrids. You see, their species was dying out. They couldn't reproduce, and this led to strife. Those who were willing to pollute the bloodline with lesser species were reviled. Fintan knew that as the older son of the King, his transgression in loving a human would be seen by many as demanding action, so he took steps to protect them. He used magic and glamours to hide them. I fed Adele my own blood, so her children could read the thoughts of others and be warned. Fintan even left them, so that his very presence wouldn't lead his enemies to them."

"I was his friend and I agreed to watch over his family. For many years, it worked well, but then, the hostilities among the Fae flared into life again. Your family's enemies found your grandparents. They were driving over a bridge and the Water Fae caused the waters to rise. Your grandparents were drowned, but your Mother and her brother were saved. Fintan was caught and killed and the magic that still shielded them weakened further. Since that time, I have considered watching over your family my sacred duty. I watch over your Mother to honor my friend.

"Do you watch over my uncle, too?" Rick asked.

"Because your Uncle Jason didn't inherit the spark, he was never in any danger. The Fae might have killed him eventually, to just tie up loose ends, but he would have been last on their list."

Rick started when he heard the word again, "Do I have it?" he asked, "the spark?"

Uncle Desmond chuckled, "Yes, young Corbett, you shine. The spark is clear in you, and I am sure as you grow, so will your ability to channel and direct it."

"The Hermosas told me my Father killed the Fae enemies of my family," Rick stated. "Is that why you hate him? Because he killed Fae?"

"I don't hate Eric Northman," Mr. Cataliades chuckled. "I just don't approve of the heir of the House Brigant being bound to a vampire."

"He's a King now," Rick shrugged. "Does that make it any better?"

"Perhaps," Mr. Cataliades shrugged, and then he looked out the window and said, "Ahh! I believe it's time for lunch. We'll stop here!" and he rapped on the glass that separated them from their driver.

The restaurant looked out of place, too elegant for a roadside eatery. Once they were in the door, Rick understood why. He could tell that most of those eating were Supernaturals. He got the impression that if he wasn't who he was, he would have seen a different exterior, or maybe not seen the place at all.

The headwaiter came up to them and smiled, revealing a mouthful of sharp, filed teeth. "Desmond! It's been too long!" he exclaimed.

"It has, and I've come to rectify that!" Mr. Cataliades replied, and Rick's eyes widened to see his Uncle's mouth full of identical teeth.

The headwaiter then turned to Rick, and he bowed low. "Welcome to you as well," he simpered. "News travels. You're the North Man's, yes?"

"This is Corbett Eric Hale," Mr. Cataliades said formally, "and he is the King's son. Of course, we would appreciate your discretion. We travel to rejoin the King and would prefer not to attract too much attention."

Rick could tell it was all role-playing. Every person in the place had stopped eating and was paying attention to them, either openly staring, or trying too hard to pretend they weren't. "Of course, of course," the headwaiter was almost obsequious. "Follow me. I have the perfect table for you."

The table was well in the back, yet still completely visible to everyone there. "You may not like my Father much, but you don't hesitate to use him when it suits you," Rick hissed at his Uncle.

Mr. Cataliades didn't answer, but Rick was sure he was smiling. As soon as they were seated, a basket of bread and a plate with flavored olive oil was set in front of them. Uncle Desmond's hands moved swiftly and by the time Rick finished his first piece of bread, all the rest was gone. Mr. Cataliades never looked at a menu, but the food started to arrive. Over the course of the next hour, Rick was presented with a dizzying variety of dishes. It was all presented family-style and he figured out if he wanted any, he had to pounce on the serving spoon first. Once the attorney started, he didn't stop until the platter was bare.

Rick sampled things he'd never seen before. Each was wonderful, but even for him, there was a bursting point. Not for Mr. Cataliades, though. He continued to eat for a full half-hour after Rick was finished and pushed back from the table, his fingers stretched over his almost uncomfortably full stomach. Finally, the attorney pushed back, too, and the headwaiter reappeared.

"Dessert?" he asked and Rick almost groaned out loud at the very idea of more food.

"My nephew needs a donor," Mr. Cataliades nodded toward Rick. "And for me? Just a few slices of cake."

Rick's eyes went wide and he could feel his face flushing. He didn't know how this was going to work. It was bad enough being around people he knew when he fed. The idea of feeding from someone in a restaurant made the food in his stomach take a warning roll. Mr. Cataliades must have known because he said, "Not out here, of course. I'm sure you can show young Rick to a private room."

"Of course!" the headwaiter clapped his hands as if this was the most wonderful thing he'd arranged all day. "If you will follow me this way," and he bowed and gestured toward the back of the restaurant.

"No, really, I'm okay," Rick started to back pedal. His fangs were itching, and his throat almost burned in need. Rick hated that the more he drank, the more he seemed to need fresh blood these days. He wished in some ways he had never tasted blood coming from donors but, then again, it did satisfy his hunger best.

"Do you need me to come with you?" Mr. Cataliades asked, and Rick's face blushed harder, embarrassed at the way his Uncle was treating him like he was two.

"No," Rick stammered, "no, I'm okay." He stood, all too aware of the stares from the other diners, and dragged after the headwaiter who showed him into what looked like a small banquet room.

"Wait here," the headwaiter said, and then he cocked his head as if considering what to do next. He got a slow smile and turned, pulling the door shut behind him. Rick sat down on a chair and placed his hands between his knees, trying to control his nervousness. He was hungry and everything in his body was standing at attention.

After what seemed the longest minute there was a discrete knock, and a short brunette woman came in. She was young and she smiled coyly. "You're kind of young, too, aren't you?" she asked, but then she sat down on the chair next to Rick and started to unbutton her shirt. "You don't mind if I take my shirt off, do you?" she asked, but Rick could tell she didn't care what he thought. "I don't want to get it stained," she explained.

Rick's eyes went huge. He'd never seen a real woman with her shirt off, and now he was going to get his first look at breasts in the backroom of some restaurant. He knew he was blushing, but he couldn't help himself. His eyes were fastened on her chest, and he felt himself harden at the sight of her nipples, dark circles showing through the nearly transparent bra that was covering them. The woman knew he was looking and she pushed her breasts out a little, and threw him a look that had Rick's heart racing.

"You are cute," she told Rick. "So…would you like me to stand? We could face each other," and she stood and took his hand, pulling him toward her.

Rick felt like he was in some dream. His heart was hammering and his fangs slid down with a click. The woman giggled and reached up, stroking one with her finger. Rick almost groaned with the sensation. "I… I…" he stammered, but then she leaned forward and kissed him lightly. Rick thought his heart would stop altogether.

"Here," she said, and placed his hand on her breast as she said, "Just lean forward. I'm not going to bite back."

Rick was so tense. He leaned over her neck and couldn't help sniffing a little. There was something about how she smelled. It was different from anyone he'd fed from before, wilder somehow. In the back of his head he figured out she was Were. She was running her hand through the back of his hair, encouraging him closer, and her other hand came over his, encouraging him to move a little, so he was stroking her through her bra. Rick could feel her nipple pebbling under his hand and it felt great. "Lick me," she breathed.

Rick didn't need any more encouragement. He licked her neck, and then nipped before rubbing his face against her. Whatever effect she was having on him, it was overcoming his inhibitions. He wanted to feed from her and rub himself against her. He slid his teeth into her and she held him close, her hand dropping to take hold of his cock. Rick staggered and exhaled when she squeezed. He thought his eyes would cross and he felt like he would burst at any minute.

"I think you are a little young for this," Mr. Cataliades voice was like ice down Rick's back, but he drew his second mouthful of blood and realized he didn't want to stop. He wanted a lot more of whatever this woman was providing. "That's enough, Rick!" the demon warned, his voice stern. Rick forced his eyes open and pulled his fangs from the woman's neck. She was staring toward the demon and Rick saw that the attractive woman had been replaced with something else. With her blood, Rick could read her thoughts. She wanted to seduce Rick. She knew who he was and wanted him to take her with him. She intended to use him to gain influence with the new King. She was using him.

Rick reached down and removed her hand from his softening cock. "Thank you for your assistance," he stumbled. "I'm sure there will be money to make it worth your while."

"I'm Zara," she purred, trying to pull his face closer to hers again. Rick's head felt fuzzy and he realized there was something about her blood that made him feel drunk. "Why don't you send the demon away for a little while?" and she stroked Rick's face.

"Again, thank you," Rick pulled back and then turned, stumbled, and lurched his way toward Mr. Cataliades.

The demon placed his arm around Rick's shoulder, "Come, young Prince, we'd best be on our way," Rick's ears were ringing and Uncle Desmond's words sounded as if they were coming from a long way away.

"I feel funny," Rick mumbled.

"You'll feel better after some rest," the attorney assured him, "and let that be a lesson to you. Were blood is intoxicating to vampires. Their scent when they're aroused is very alluring, but Weres are not your natural allies. They prefer to take advantage of vampires. It's rare that you will see true friendships between members of your races. Your Father is the only vampire I know who maintains friendships with Weres who are not his business partners."

"She wanted to…" Rick collapsed against the backseat cushions of the car.

"Yes, she did," "Mr. Cataliades was not amused. "But I will suggest it is better when one's first experience is with someone you care about. Having sex with strangers is an occupation best left for when you're older." Uncle Desmond was trying to make light of what happened, but Rick had the impression the headwaiter was in trouble.

"Don't tell my Mom," Rick whispered and without another word, he curled against the car door and closed his eyes. He relived the feel of her and the way she smelled. He started to harden again, and then he sighed, relaxed, and fell asleep.

xxxXXXxxx

"Come give your Aunt a hug," Aunt Fran held out her thin arms. She was in a wheelchair, looking smaller than Rick remembered.

"Our young friend has had quite the adventure," Mr. Cataliades said from behind him.

"I'd say," Aunt Fran was giving Rick a sharp look. "You smell like you've been rolling with some kind of animal. Didn't those Hermosas offer you a shower?"

Rick blushed all the way down to his toes. "Sorry," he stammered. "I'll go take a shower now, but I don't have any clean clothes."

"Where's your suitcase?" Aunt Lora asked.

"I don't know," Rick shrugged. "In the back of Pam's car, maybe." There had been so many car changes since he'd left Fangtasia and Mustapha Khan, Rick was no longer sure where any of his belongings had ended up.

"Well, we'll need to sort that out first," Aunt Fran told Aunt Lora. "Call Charles," She pronounced it the French way, so that the 'Ch' sounded like 'Sh.'

"Who's he?" Rick asked.

"The concierge," Aunt Fran was waving at Rick, signaling he should sit down in the chair next to her. The Maison de Ville looked like every other old building on the street, but inside it was pure elegance. It wasn't large and everyone here seemed to know his Aunt. In just a few minutes, there was a quiet knock at the door and an elegant older man walked in. He bowed and Aunt Fran said, "Oh, thank you, Charles. My Godson has lost his luggage. He will need a full complement of clothing. Casual and dress." She looked at Rick, "What shoe size are you?" she asked.

"Thirteen," Rick told her, and the concierge's eyes widened.

"Shoes as well, everything," Aunt Fran was waving. "How quickly do you think you could have it pulled together?"

The concierge was eying Rick, and so Rick stood up. "Do you need to know my other sizes?" he asked.

"No, Monsieur," Charles shook his head, and then said to Fran, "Within the hour."

"Are you hungry?" Lora asked Rick.

"No," Rick stammered, and then embarrassed himself by blushing. He could almost feel that Were's breath on his neck and he was worried his body would betray him. "No, I'm fine."

When Charles left, Fran turned toward Rick, "Okay, what was that about? Something happened. You don't light up like a traffic light for no reason."

"It's nothing, Auntie," Rick stammered.

"Stop bullshitting me!" his Aunt snapped.

"A Were girl tried to seduce him on our way home. We stopped for lunch and she was provided as a donor," Mr. Cataliades provided.

"Seduce him?" Aunt Fran growled. "Do you know how old he is? Tried to rape him, more like." Fran turned her mean gaze toward the attorney. "And did you pay enough attention to prevent it? I am beginning to doubt in your ability to protect this family!"

Mr. Cataliades turned red, but it wasn't blushing. It was an ugly flush, "I had no reason to doubt the place. I've been there before and the owners and permanent staff are known to me," he snapped back. "I could tell that drinking from humans was new to him. I could sense his unease with being asked to perform in public and I thought to preserve his privacy. The Were was new and her motives were her own. Believe me, there will be consequences."

"All right," Fran waved. "Who knows? I probably would have done the same, but it's a lesson we should learn. He is known now, and there will be those who will risk the King's wrath to make him a target."

"What have you heard from the Palace?" the attorney changed the subject, and Rick realized from the tone of his voice that his Aunt Fran and Uncle Desmond were getting into another round of what seemed to be a running fight.

"Nothing, but that's not going to stop me," Fran croaked. "There has to be someone up over there and them not returning calls is not acceptable."

Lora was standing right behind Fran and Rick could tell she wanted to caution Fran about getting herself too worked up, but was holding back. Fran proved Rick right when she looked at Lora and snapped, "Stop hovering! I'm fine!"

Mr. Cataliades crossed his arms, his lip lifted just a bit, "Then there is no point in going to the Palace tonight. Sookie will still be transforming. She will not be fit to be seen. That is why most vampires transform in the ground. What's more, I can't see her wishing her son to see her in her current state," and Mr. Cataliades had that 'told you so' superior look that Rick knew set his Aunt's teeth on edge.

"And you're so sure things are going well, are you?" Fran sniped. "How do you know? How do any of us know? They can't object to Amy Ludwig checking on her…"

"It's possible Amy has already been there," Mr. Cataliades interjected.

"And you know because you've asked her?" Fran growled. "Or is this just another of your dangerous assumptions?"

"Mom wouldn't like you to be fighting," Rick scolded them. "I don't like it either." He looked at Fran, "I mean, if something does happen and Mom doesn't make it, you're kind of all I have left," and he looked down into his lap. "I need you guys to get along. I can't afford to lose anyone else."

"You aren't going to lose anyone else, and you shouldn't think that way!" Lora shot Fran and the attorney a poisonous look as she laid her hand on Rick's back. "There's no reason to think that you could lose either one of these fools. If they didn't care about each other and you so much, they wouldn't snipe the way they do. And as for your Mom, I'm sure if something was wrong, we would have heard. The Palace people know we're here and they have our numbers."

"But, Eric couldn't be bothered to call," Fran growled again.

"I don't like him either," the demon agreed, then glanced at Rick, and had the grace to look embarrassed. "I didn't mean it the way it came out," he apologized. "As I know I've mentioned, I am coming around to appreciating your Father a little more." Then the attorney turned back to Fran, "Still, the reality is he won't have time to do anything other than what is required of him until she rises. If I'm correct, he's running on instinct right now. He will be possessive and irritable. He won't wish to trust anyone to be near her. When a Maker chooses to join their progeny in the ground, they cut themselves off from everything. He is newly-made King as well. You must have some idea what that entails. I'm sure he's relying heavily on Pam, Karin, and the others to line things up for him, so he can minimize the time he spends apart from her."

"She is not his progeny," Fran pointed out, "and thank goodness. I can't imagine any man having that kind of control over me, I don't care how much he supposedly cares."

"He does order Pam around," Rick added fuel to the fire.

"He freed his daughters long ago," Mr. Cataliades said like someone who knew. "They obey him because they choose to follow him, not because he is forcing them. They are a formidable team. As much as it pains me to admit, the fact that he could come into the state and call so many to his side and so quickly is in his favor. He is a strong leader, one who demands loyalty." The attorney turned back to Fran, "And that is no small thing."

"You need to shower," Fran turned to Rick, her nose wrinkling. "There are bathrobes in the rooms. Just wear one of those until your clothes show up."

Rick suspected Fran just wanted him out of the room, but then Aunt Lora said, "You really do smell, Sweetie."

Rick knew that if Uncle Desmond and Aunt Fran were going to tag-team him, he'd lose, so he stood and made his way down the hall, grumbling all the way. They were in a suite of rooms, and there were doors open, connecting more rooms. Rick found first one bathroom, then continued into the next set of rooms where there was another sitting area with two bedrooms positioned to either side. He figured this was where he and Mr. Cataliades were staying since the beds were still made and there were no clothes around. He chose the bedroom to the right and headed in to use the attached bathroom. His head wasn't really spinning anymore and he figured the effects of the Were blood had mostly worn off.

While he didn't like having to hear their bickering, Rick didn't want to miss anything either, and he hurried through his shower. When he walked out of the bathroom, he found several sets of clothes laid out on the bed, waiting for him. There was also a suitcase positioned on a rack and shoes lined side by side in the closet. "Boy, leave it to Aunt Fran," Rick whistled. He pulled on a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt that fit him like a glove. The sneakers in the closet were black as well, and he pulled them on, not bothering with socks. He opened a toiletry kit and found twin brushes. He used them to slick back his blond hair, and then, taking a deep breath, he headed back to the room where he'd left his extended family.

Amy Ludwig had joined them and they were all drinking wine. "Oh, good, we were waiting for you," Aunt Fran rasped. She reached to the table next to her and lifted what looked like a shot glass. It was odd, watching Aunt Fran throwing back the liquor, but she licked her lips, shook all over a little, and said, "Well, I'm ready for dinner. What about the rest of you?"

"We're going to have an early dinner and then walk over to the Palace," Aunt Lora explained to Rick. "Amy is coming with us. She's known over there and that should help ease things."

"I've left a message for Thalia," the Doctor nodded. "We'll be expected."

Rick thought of the small vampire. She'd been the first to really speak with him at the Palace, and besides Pam, she'd been the nicest, all things considered. "Sounds like a plan," Rick nodded, and they headed down the block to stop at the same restaurant where he had dined with Doctor Ludwig when he first came to the City. It seemed a lifetime ago, and Rick had a hard time smiling as they settled.

xxxXXXxxx

When Eric lowered himself into the travel coffin outside of Compton's house and wrapped Sookie in his arms, he held his breath. He relied on his memory to provide the details. The transformation had begun. The faint smell of decay that would intensify over the next two nights was there. Eric registered it, but it didn't matter. This was Sookie. She was his shining girl and no matter what happened, that was his constant.

"I missed you, my Lover," he whispered to her, holding her as carefully as he could, and for the first time in so many years, Eric Northman fell into his day death knowing he was where he belonged.

When he next rose, Eric opened the lid to find himself in his chambers in New Orleans. Sookie lay beside him and he kissed her forehead before extricating himself. He walked to his bed and grabbed a blanket that he laid on the floor next to the coffin. Carefully, shifting to accommodate for her shifting skin, he gathered her in his arms. She was changing. Eric wrapped her tightly, so she would hold together better. "I have you, Sookie," he whispered. "You are safe. Nothing more will hurt you." Eric lifted her swaddled body and held her close, walking with her to the bathtub. It was not optimal, but there were certain practicalities to the situation. The tub had been lined with plastic packing material. It was the type that had air bubbles. It could be hosed out and easily replaced. It also provided the right type of cushioning for their bodies.

"Should I send someone up?" Thalia stood behind him. She rose earliest, and Eric wasn't surprised to find her here in his chambers.

"You know better," Eric smiled. "I'm not sure I could restrain myself if someone else touched her now."

"She is progressing well," Thalia offered, and then, "If she accepts it, she will be a magnificent vampire. She is a fighter. Who knows? Someday she may rival my own reputation."

"I hope Sookie never has to learn to live with the kind of violence we have come to expect." Eric finished unwrapping the telepath. Thalia leaned over and when Eric lifted, she pulled the blanket out from under Sookie's form. "I want the kingdom she will be part of to be a different place. I want her to feel safe here."

"Sookie and your son," Thalia said. It was the way she said it, almost a rebuke, and Eric glanced up.

"Thank you for taking his part," Eric acknowledged. "I was not thinking clearly." He looked at Sookie's face and stroked her cheek with his finger. It left a mark. "If only I had been there sooner. Why didn't the witch's magic protect her?"

"The witch will be here tomorrow night," Thalia told him, "You may ask her yourself."

Eric frowned, "I thought Ludwig said she was ill."

"Amy Ludwig received a call from this Fran Miller. I think they are using vampire blood to stave off the witch's death. She is already in the City and is bringing young Rick to her. When she comes here tomorrow night, she will expect to see her," and Thalia glanced at Sookie. "The boy will want to see his Mother, too, and that is only right."

Eric nodded, "She will be forming by then." Eric stood and, reluctantly, walked back into the other room. "What is required of me tonight? I don't want to leave her for more than an hour at a time."

"Pam will assemble a line downstairs. Those who are expected to give blood are first." Eric nodded. Any vampire who would hold a position of authority or expect to be near his person would need to submit to Eric's bite. It was both ceremonial and practical. Eric would be able to track them and sense their emotions. On their part, it was a tangible signal of their willingness to serve. "And you will need to address the vacancy in Area 5." Eric had banished Indira, Pam's choice for Sheriff.

"I have asked Karin to clear out the troublemakers from Area 5," Eric told Thalia. "My daughter is anxious for a post. Area 5 would present her with enough challenges to keep her from becoming too restless."

"It seems far away," Thalia observed.

Eric glanced toward the bathroom where Sookie lay, "It seems a reasonable solution," he said quietly.

Thalia's mouth set in a straight line, but instead of scolding, she asked, "What should I tell Pam about tonight?"

"Tell her yes, but I will not spend my night there," he replied. "I will come down and hold Court for one hour. I will allow two more hours tonight, but I intend to space them. Pam may enter these chambers, and you. No others. Sookie knows your voices. She knows you are her friends."

"As you say," and Thalia bowed before leaving.

Eric returned to the bathroom and lowered himself into the tub. "You are among friends, my Lover," Eric whispered to the woman lying beside him. "But I think it is only fair to tell you that I didn't always feel that way." Eric propped his head on his elbow. "Your son told me that I didn't tell you the things you needed to know. He told me that I only shared what was convenient and easy." Eric hesitated, remembering again how Rick's angry words had stung. "I am thinking that perhaps he was right," Eric whispered.

"You should know that when I left for Oklahoma, I was very angry with you. I blamed you for everything. I believed that if you had lived in my house and called yourself my wife, things would have been different. Now? Now I don't think so." Eric had run so many scenarios of their lives together that first year of what he'd viewed as his exile. The house he chose as his own in Oklahoma was so far west, it was almost in New Mexico. There were mountains there, the tail of the Sangre de Cristo range, and most nights he'd fly to the highest peak so he could feel the icy winds whip past him, dulling the pain that was Sookie's betrayal.

"It took a year before my anger started to fade," he told her. "A year for me to accept that there was no way out. But you should know, I have come to understand that there was never any way out, for either of us." The vampire lifted a lock of her long hair and sniffed it. Even her hair was starting to smell stale, and he laid it back down, drawing it over her breast.

"Appius hated you," he told her. "He wished to kill you. He didn't say it, but I could feel it through the bond. The only thing that held him back was his belief that your death might destroy his hold over me. Appius had released me once. His command could not be reinstated as it had been. And, of course, he had already brokered the contract." Eric sighed. He wished his Sookie could open her eyes. He wished she could smile at him and touch him, reassuring him that his words were heard.

"I know you don't understand why I honored the contract," Eric told her. "Your son made many accusations that he could only have heard from you. Even now, I'm not sure that I can explain the compulsion that is part of a Maker's bond. It is something that you will never experience, and I am happy for that, but in his own way, Appius believed he was saving me. He saw me as being in a 'shameful' situation, and he felt that as his creation, I was wasting my potential. In the end, had you lived with me, it would only have made our parting more painful. It would have changed nothing," and Eric allowed himself a moment to savor the bitterness of that truth.

"Of course, you would have learned about the contract sooner," Eric grinned. "I'm sure it would have served to confirm all the bad things you believed about vampires, but truly, my Lover, there were no choices. We could have run. We could have defied Appius and hoped we kept enough distance between him and us to prevent his command. But what then? You would have had to leave your home. You would have had to share the night with me, sleeping in dark, deep places. You would have had to watch me feed from others so you could stay strong. How long would it have been before you realized that being with me was not enough? You would have realized your hatred of vampires was more powerful than any love you felt for me."

"What I came to realize," Eric whispered to her, "was that you having that distance from me then was better for both of us. You were so sad that night I came to you after the divorce. You lashed out at me and I did the same. I think now that you turned to the Shifter to punish me. It wasn't worthy of you, but I understand it."

"I should also tell you I'm not proud of my time in Oklahoma. I was so angry, I took it out on everyone. There are those who live near my first house who still shun me, and I deserve that. I used humans. I made bad business deals aimed to hurt my partners. I told myself that I was everything that Appius wished of me." Eric swallowed as her body moved. It wasn't her, just the decomposition advancing, and Eric struggled to maintain his composure. "You will be all right," he said out loud, more for himself than for her.

"I indulged in every perversion," Eric told her, "I wished to wipe you from my mind, but, of course, that was not possible. How is it, my Lover, that one woman can become the world to a man? And yet, that is what you are to me." Eric glanced at the clock on the wall, "Soon, I must go downstairs, but first I will tell you of Freyda."

Eric leaned closer. He worried that of all he had done, his Sookie might find his relationship with the Oklahoma Queen the least forgivable. "I can't tell you I didn't like her," he started. "She was fair to me, and patient. She knew of you, but she never confronted me or demanded from me. She supported me when I needed it, and I came to be comfortable with her. I fulfilled my duties, and that did include having sex with her," and Eric smiled briefly, remembering Sookie's angry words in Denver. "I believed you were lost to me, Sookie, and I tried to find peace with that. Part of that was making peace with Freyda." Eric thought about this time in Oklahoma, and then he chuckled, "She would have hated you," he whispered. "Had we bonded, Freyda would have known the truth and I believe she would have tried to find a way to kill you," and then Eric sobered. "I owe her my respect," he told the Sookie, "but she never had my love. Only, you, Älskade."

Eric rose, "Forgive me, my Sookie. I must leave you for a bit. I am creating a kingdom that I hope you will find worthy. There is much work ahead of me. It is work I hope you will take on with me. I need you," and Eric leaned down to kiss her damp forehead. "You always know what is best. You know when it is time for talk and when it is time for stakes. I need your clear, clever head beside me, my Lover. Please know that," and Eric rose.

After a quick shower, Eric dressed and rushed downstairs. Pam was waiting in the ballroom. As promised, the room was full of vampires and Weres. These were his future Sheriffs and those who would run the ministries he wished to create. They were the guards of his Palace and the spokespeople who would represent him to vampires here and abroad. As Eric stepped onto the dais, he saw that someone had recovered the throne once used by Queen Sophie-Ann. It seemed appropriate. For many here, she was considered the last true ruler of Louisiana. Making the most of the opportunity, Eric slowly turned, his arms out-stretched, and then lowered himself onto the throne.

"Come, those who would give fealty to their King," Thalia announced, and the queue formed.

Twice more that night Eric left Sookie to handle appointments and meetings. The head of the New Orleans Pack came to swear fealty and reaffirm the arrangement to provide security. Restitution demands had to be prioritized and messages sent.

Each time he returned to her, Eric told her what had transpired. "I want you to know what decisions I make and why," he explained to his sleeping woman. "I want you to view this kingdom as your own. We could rule together, side by side. Of course, it is probably better that you are resting," and Eric smiled. "All this talk of politics might bore you. You might tell me you'd rather have sex, but I hope you decide that my new-found talk is good, too. It would be lonely to be here, my Sookie, ruling without you. I hope you will wish to be my Queen."

Eric hoped it would be so, but then he leaned close and said, "I won't ask you to bond with me, though. No, Miss Stackhouse, you will have to ask me this time. In fact, I may just make you beg me for it."

Of course, she didn't respond, but Eric hoped Sookie heard him. If her experience was anything like his, she would.

Eric thought back to the great silence that surrounded him during his turning, punctuated only by the faint sounds of footsteps overhead. He remembered the calling of Appius in his blood. When he held Pam in the ground, she told him she remembered him talking to her, telling her how wonderful she would be.

It was later, as he lay down next to her, the dawn only an hour away, when he started to talk about Rick. Before he came to join her, Eric pulled up his computer and searched public records until he found the boy's birth certificate. The space for the identity of father on the certificate was blank. Eric wondered if Sookie didn't know or if it was purposeful in protecting their son. Eric looked at the birth date and counted back.

"When I divorced you, our son was already within you, my Lover," Eric told Sookie as he settled beside her. "When you saved Sam, and you were shot and in the hospital, you were with child. How could they not have known?" Eric shook his head. He remembered how the Supes on the hospital staff made sure they were closest, keeping humans and their pesky questions at bay. They all knew Sookie was his woman. No one would have thought to test her. Vampires didn't have biological children.

"I have a confession to make, my Sookie," he whispered close to her ear. "I have not done well with our son. I think he is angry with me, and it is deserved. I would tell you I wish I had known about him, but that would be selfish. It would have served no purpose and could have placed you both in great danger." Eric moved to touch her, but then he drew back, afraid to place too much pressure anywhere on her body.

"It is strange to think during all this time, I believed you had moved on and forgotten me. I believed my sacrifice had secured you the normal life you told others you wanted. I know you thought you hid that from me, but I heard and I knew what you meant. You wanted a life without vampires, without me." Eric thought of what he knew about pregnant women. He remembered how he came to know when Aude was pregnant even before she did. She would be tired and angry all the time.

"Is that why you were so angry with me, Sookie?" he asked out loud, astonished by his epiphany. "Were you angry because you were breeding?" Eric chuckled, "I suppose it would explain much. It would explain why one minute you were in my arms, and the next you were holding that Shifter's hand. It would explain why you were willing to be in pain rather than let me heal you."

Eric bit his lip and allowed one tear to fall on her. "I am sorry for what Compton did to you. Each scar is a story and he has stolen that from you. Appius did the same thing to me. The tales of my battles were carved from my body before he turned me. Of course, he used me, and I'm sure Compton did the same to you. It is our way. But I know you, and I know you will feel angry about it, my Lover.

The difference is that you are free now. Compton is finally dead. He will never command you as your Maker. You are free to choose your own destiny and I hope that is with me, my Sookie."

Eric stretched out, laying his head close to hers. The area around her was damp and smelled bad. It didn't matter. "The witch, Fran Miller, and your son, Rick, will be here tomorrow. I have promised your son that his will be the first face you see."

Eric chuckled, "I have to tell you how hard that is for me to accept. Every instinct is screaming I must protect you, but I know that this is something I need to change. You see, I do know you, my Sookie. You will want to hear their voices before you will wish to hear mine. They will call to you, and you will feel the pull to them far stronger than my voice will pull you, but if that means that you return, it is all I desire."

Despite her state, Eric pressed his lips to her face. "Come back, my Lover. Come back to everyone who loves you," and Eric hummed a song they used to dance to until his day death took him.


	25. Chapter 25 - A Heart's Desire

**Chapter 25 – A Heart's Desire**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Rick barely touched his dinner. He ordered steak and he knew it was expensive, but he was so nervous about tonight, his throat was tight and he worried he'd choke. He was feeling guilty until he noticed that Aunt Fran was just picking at her plate, too. He leaned over and said, "You're not hungry, either, Auntie?"

"I'm not hungry," Fran grumbled, "now that I'm a drug addict." Aunt Lora made a shushing noise and glared her disapproval, but Aunt Fran was suddenly angry. "Put a lid on it, Lora!" she snarled, and then turning back to Rick, the witch snapped, "And it's all Amy Ludwig's fault!"

Amy was sitting right on the boy's other side, and she leaned across Rick and said loudly, "Struggling with the side effects, Fran?"

"I guess," and Aunt Fran looked remorseful as she sat back. Fran glanced at Lora, saying, "Sorry," and then she patted Rick's arm to let him know it was okay. "It's like having ants crawling up my veins," the witch explained. "I don't know how they aren't growling and fighting all the time."

"Their Makers train them," Amy shrugged. "Some vampires don't earn their freedom for hundreds of years. A Maker who frees their progeny before they can control themselves faces big trouble. I don't think mainstreaming is going to change that!"

"Are you sure you're alright, Auntie?" Rick was worried. His Aunt had been in the hospital, so ill Rick thought she'd die. Now, suddenly, she was here, wheeling around New Orleans, and bossing everyone around. She sounded strong, but there was still something about how she looked that was too fragile to be healthy. "Are you really okay?"

Aunt Fran patted his arm again, "Don't you worry, Rick! I'm right as rain! And don't you listen to all my bitching. When an old lady starts grousing about her problems, you can bet it's more a spectator sport than anything worth paying attention to.'"

"Do you want me to turn you?" Rick asked. The whole table suddenly went silent. Rick looked around nervously, before stammering, "I mean… I don't know if I can, but I could probably figure it out. It's just…" and he stopped talking when he felt the weight of all those eyes staring at him.

"Oh, Ricky!" Fran laughed out loud, breaking the tension, "Now, that's the nicest offer I've had in years. I do appreciate you offering, Sweetie, but the cold truth is I don't want to live forever. I have things to do on the other side, people to see, and I made my peace with that a long time ago. I'm not like you and your Mom. You both have everything you ever wanted right here."

"I guess," Rick shrugged. "It's pretty nice, though, being a vampire," and when his Aunt didn't look away, he continued trying to persuade her. "I mean, I feel stronger every day. I don't have to worry about getting hurt much anymore. I bumped into a dresser at the Hermosas and it really hurt, but the bruise was gone almost before it started. I bet you'd feel a lot better if you were a vampire."

"Maybe I would," Aunt Fran smiled, "but I'd still be a dinosaur. Vampire blood can't change that. Besides, I heard they already have an ancient vampire and everyone tells me she's a regular bitch. You know how I feel about competition. I wouldn't like knowing there's anyone else around who's enough like me to give me a run for my money."

"There's never going to be anyone one like you, Aunt Fran!" Rick smiled.

"And you better believe it, Kiddo," and his Aunt sat back. "Now, come over here and give your Godmother a kiss, and then do this old lady a favor and eat something off that plate. We'll be in Vampire Central for hours tonight, and I'm willing to bet a whole dollar they don't have any real food there. You won't be happy if we have to leave because your stomach is growling."

"Sure," Rick smiled, allowing his Aunt to tease him into picking up his fork. Rick did feel better, but instead of steak, he found himself thinking about the donors at the Palace. The thought of fresh blood made his fangs itch and he shifted in his chair. He'd had bottled blood today, a couple times in fact, but it wasn't the same. His Aunt looked pointedly from his face to his plate and back, so Rick humored her by slicing into his steak and dutifully raising a piece to his lips. He looked across the table. Aunt Lora was smiling at him and beside her, Mr. Cataliades was tucking into a second plate of what appeared to be some kind of chicken dish.

'Guess nothing bothers your appetite, Uncle Desmond," Rick said once he'd swallowed his meat. Rick couldn't help staring at the attorney. It was a repeat performance of yesterday. The plates appeared, and the demon cleaned them off, one by one, piling them neatly into a stack to the side, so they could be scooped up by the waiters, and replaced with more plates full of food.

"I'd say you're feeling better," Amy Ludwig agreed, then explained to Rick, "Happy demons eat."

"I am happier," Mr. Cataliades agreed. "I am no longer under Felipe de Castro's heel, I still have my head, and although it isn't optimal, Fintan Brigant's family will live on," Desmond smiled, "so, yes, things are looking up for me."

"That's good," Rick said agreeably. "I kind of figured that since Mom will probably end up staying with Eric, you'd be pissed off."

The attorney drank some wine and then adjusted the napkin in his lap before looking across the table at the boy, "I suppose I owe you an apology, young Rick." The demon set his fingers on the tabletop, "I have not been complimentary about your Father, and that is not fair to him or to you. If you and the North Man hadn't found your Mother, she would be in a terrible place right now. You both saved her, but Mr. Northman was willing to risk his kingdom to do so. I may have misjudged the relationship between Mr. Northman and your Mother."

"And, you're okay with her being a vampire?" Rick asked. "I guess that does mean that she goes on forever…"

"But there's you!" and Mr. Cataliades leaned forward.

"What do you mean?" There was something in the way the demon was looking at him that didn't make Rick feel comfortable.

"In most cases, becoming a vampire does mean an end of sorts, but in your case, young Rick, there remain possibilities. You can carry on Fintan's bloodline."

"He's telling you that you can reproduce," Amy said through a mouthful of food. She swallowed before telling the flushed Rick, "The Fae lost that ability, so having any member with the blood who can have children is important to them."

"And to me," Mr. Cataliades agreed.

"Yeah… great." Rick swallowed. "But I'm not the only one, right? I mean, there's my Mom's brother…"

"Ah, Jason!" Mr. Cataliades nodded. "And you have another cousin, Hunter Savoy." That was news to Rick and he wondered why his Mother had never mentioned it. "I maintain tabs on them," the demon nodded, "but the likelihood of your uncle carrying the blood forward is slight, and your cousin is not well." It made Rick wonder, but the demon didn't seem worried and neither did anyone else. "You, on the other hand, are remarkably magic," and Mr. Cataliades winked and went back to eating.

"Well, Rick," Aunt Fran rescued him. "I'm sure you have more questions, but I think we need to get moving." She glanced again at Rick's plate before observing, "This all turned out a lot different than I thought it would, but sometimes things just turn out the way they're supposed to."

"It's starting to get dark," Aunt Lora observed, looking out the windows lining the front of the building. "Should we think about getting over there?"

Rick put down his fork and started to pull the napkin from his lap, but Fran was having none of it. "Finish your dinner," she growled. "It's not like anyone is going to be put out if we're late. I don't imagine anyone will be angry if we delay our arrival until after the sun sets. They'll be right where they're supposed to be and they'll see us when we get there."

Rick started cutting his meat into pieces and eating with purpose. "You do realize your Mom will still be sleeping? She won't be able to react to you," Amy seemed intent on explaining things to Rick for what seemed the millionth time.

Rick rolled his eyes and nodded, never stopping his chewing. When he'd asked earlier, the Doctor told him she was pretty sure his Mother would be able to hear anything he said to her, even now. It prompted Rick to rip the pages from the pad he'd used at the Hermosas and stuff them in his pocket. He'd made lists of those things he felt he really needed to be happy, and those where he figured he could compromise.

"I know," Rick nodded once he swallowed. "You told me! But, like you said, she'll still hear me. Maybe it'll give her some time to think stuff over. One thing I know about my Mom, when she hears something that upsets her, sometimes she says something she doesn't mean at first. Later, once she's had a chance to roll it over a couple times, she might change her mind."

"You think that's what she'll do with your ideas while she's sleeping?" Aunt Lora asked.

"You know your Mom pretty well," Aunt Fran patted his hand. "She acts first and regrets later, but she's a grown woman. She knows that about herself now. Still, this whole vampire thing is a big change. You need to be prepared for her not behaving too well about it at first."

"I get why you feel that way, you, and pretty much every vampire I met while I've been here," Rick sighed. "I just know that you're all wrong. My Mom isn't going to have any problems being a vampire. She'll be like me now and she's fine with how I am."

"Your Mother would never have a problem being like you," Fran assured her Godson, "but, like I said, this is a big change, and sometimes adults don't do well with changes just because they are…well…changes."

"Yeah, sure, Aunt Fran," Rick huffed. "Who's bullshitting now?"

"Well, not me, Mr. Smart-Mouth! I just don't want you to get your feelings hurt if your Mom says some stupid things in the beginning. You have to be prepared to let her do some venting and then, as you say, roll things over a couple times," and Aunt Fran laid her napkin on the table.

"I get it," Rick huffed. He looked up to see his Aunt Lora's worried eyes watching him, "I do! And things will be weird tonight, too. Mom's going to look strange. She won't be able to say anything. I need to see my Father again…yeah. I get it, total shit show!"

"Well!" Aunt Fran shrugged, "then as long as we're all feeling good about all of this, I guess we're ready to make our grand entrance at the Palace!" Rick couldn't help laughing. His Aunt always knew the right thing to say to make him feel better.

Still, as Rick pushed his Aunt's wheelchair around the corner and they saw the barricades that kept traffic from crossing in front of the Palace, he couldn't help the nervous feeling that started from his stomach and marched through the rest of him.

Clearly, they were expected because several large people, Weres, came out the front door of the building and headed straight for them. The Weres moved the barricades, so their whole party could walk through, then moved the barriers back in place behind them. The ever-present tourists who lined the sidewalks stared, and Rick could hear their speculation and see them raising their phones to photograph him and his family.

As they approached the broad steps that led up to the double doors, three more Weres came out of the building. They were wearing black uniforms and what looked like flak vests. The middle one bowed to Fran, but then he said, "Welcome home, Master. If you will permit, we will assist your Aunt into the building."

It took Rick a tick to realize the Were guard was speaking to him. Rick wasn't sure what to make of it, but then the other Weres moved to stand on either side of Aunt Fran's chair and they lifted her up, chair and all. They walked her up the steps and in through the open doors, and the rest of their group followed. Aunt Fran glanced up at the man who'd bowed and said loudly, "Cupcake, you can come and carry me around any time!"

"You got it, Toots!" the Were winked back.

"Why you are too young!" Aunt Fran flirted some more, "You young ones just don't have the stamina it takes. Your Grandfather around?"

"Clearly, you've never had a Were," the guard teased back, "We're ready from the time we're born!"

"Jeez!" Rick groaned. He looked at Amy Ludwig, wondering if this was part of the side effects of whatever substance she was taking now.

"You're embarrassing him!" Lora scolded Fran.

"Just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm blind," Aunt Fran laughed.

The guards around them were smiling and looking more relaxed than Rick remembered, but then Thalia came around the corner and they all snapped back to attention.

"Welcome home, Rick," Thalia bowed her head slightly. Her gaze swept over the rest of the group and ended with a glare aimed at Mr. Cataliades.

"Hi, Thalia. Nice to see you again, too," Rick replied, anxious to keep things friendly.

Thalia turned her gaze away from the attorney, "I trust your journey from Minden to New Orleans was uneventful? The demon made sure you were kept safe?"

There was something about how she said it that had Rick wondering if Thalia knew about the misadventure involving the Were woman at the restaurant yesterday. He knew he was blushing, but he said, "Yeah, Uncle Desmond was great. He always takes care of me."

"That's very good to hear," Thalia smiled tightly, and her gaze riveted back on the attorney. "I would hate to think that your 'Uncle Desmond' allowed you to be placed in a situation that could have led to your being hurt or manipulated in some way. As the King's son, you will have many protectors, but that is because there are others who will wish to use you for your position," and with that, Rick knew that Thalia knew about the restaurant.

"This way," she said and turned, leading them down the corridor. As they passed the bench where Rick spent his first night in the Palace, Rick found his eyes lingering. Thalia was suddenly beside him. "Pleasant memories?" she asked.

Rick jumped a little, "No... I mean yes… I mean it just seems like a long time ago."

Thalia nodded, "It is the way in times of emergency," she told him. "It can be as if time stands still, and then time seems to compress." She was watching him as she slowed her pace to match his. When they reached the end of the corridor, Thalia gestured that they should all take a turn. A few paces down, they came to the elevator and Thalia stepped forward and pushed the button. "I'll meet you upstairs," she said directly to Rick. "Get out on the sixth floor. You remember."

"You know where we're going?" Fran asked Rick as they rode up.

"I'm pretty sure Thalia meant Eric's rooms," Rick nodded. "I know they're are on the sixth floor."

"I'm not surprised that's where he's keeping your Mother," Mr. Cataliades grumbled. Rick was kind of surprised the attorney was complaining. If Rick thought Thalia was pissed at him, Rick would have felt worried, and not out of sorts, which Uncle Desmond did. "He would want to keep her close, regardless," the attorney continued, "but if his instincts have kicked in to include the role of her protector, he may be aggressive in how he keeps others away from her."

"I think it's more for Eric than just protecting Mom," Rick said glumly, and the image of the vampire lowering himself into the coffin with his Mom came back to mind. There was something about the look on the Viking's face, and then Thalia's words, that Eric Northman belonged to his Mom, that had made a deep impression on Rick.

The elevator doors opened and they all found themselves facing Pam Ravenscroft. "Baby Fang!" Pam grinned at Rick. "Oh, and friends!" and Pam looked at the others before stepping back and beckoning for them to step out of the elevator. "Come on! Eric's on his way to his receiving room. You remember where that is, right, Rick? It's where we met the first time." 

"I remember," Rick mumbled.

"I bet you do!" and Pam laughed out loud. She glanced at Aunt Lora who was walking beside her and said, "Junior took one look at Eric and passed out cold. He hit the floor so hard you could hear his head bounce!"

"Hey, I didn't have anything to eat in hours and your buddies kept me a virtual prisoner downstairs…" Rick protested.

"Prisoner?" Aunt Fran's voice had that edge that usually meant trouble.

"It's all sorted good now, Auntie," Rick rushed to say. "By the way, this is Pam. I guess you could say she's my sister."

"Share a Maker? More than just a guess," Pam smirked at Rick, then turned to Aunt Fran, saying "Pam Ravenscroft. You'd think he," and Pam nodded at Rick, "would have better manners." She opened the double doors at the end of the corridor and walked into the room Rick remembered. Pam stood next to an armchair before continuing, "Your Mother has the best manners of anyone I've ever met. It didn't matter who she was talking to or how bad the situation got, she always did right by everyone. It's one of the things I admire most about her."

Lora had taken over pushing Fran's chair, and once she had the witch positioned between the couch and a chair, the introductions continued. "Well, I'm Fran Miller," and Aunt Fran smiled, but didn't offer a hand.

"The witch," Pam acknowledged, and she bowed a bit. "And you?" Pam looked up and cocked her eyebrow at Aunt Lora.

Lora introduced herself, and bowed, although it looked pretty awkward. Pam executed her perfect head bow, then smiling faintly, grazed her eyes across Amy Ludwig and Mr. Cataliades. "And, of course, I know the rest of you. Of course, you look different than the last time we saw each other, Demon. Looks like you're eating again."

"My fortunes are more than just looking up," Mr. Cataliades replied, bowing rather elegantly, but when he stood up, his smile was full of sharp, pointed teeth. Rick kept looking between Pam and Uncle Desmond. He was sure there was some backstory, but he knew now wasn't the time to ask. Closing his mouth, Mr. Cataliades straightened, pulled down on his suit, and asked, "May I assume you are serving as the new King's Second?"

Pam's smile bordered on preening, "I have been honored with Eric's trust and I am serving in that capacity," she confirmed. Rick wasn't exactly sure what it meant, but Pam looked very pleased, so Rick figured it was a big deal.

"And may I ask where your sister, Karin, might be? I haven't heard of her being in the city," and Mr. Cataliades looked rather pointedly polite.

"Karin will be staying in Area 5," Pam's eyes cut to Rick. "Eric felt that with the problems the Area faces, he needed someone up there he could trust to clean things up. Eric was told that things got out of hand under the previous Sheriff," and Pam glanced away and bit her lip. Rick remembered how upset Pam had been when Indira was banished. "At any rate, if Karin does well, she will be named as Sheriff there. If she succeeds, she could be appointed Regent of Arkansas."

"Your Maker would keep his own daughter so far away?" and Mr. Cataliades' eyebrows rose.

Pam stared at Rick and he could see she was struggling not to look annoyed, "Under the circumstances, it seemed like the best opportunity for her. With Karin there and me here, it means Eric doesn't have to look over his shoulder while he works to stabilize his rule over his new territory."

"Or worry about unnecessary drama while he works on settling his personal life," the attorney's smile was meek, but Rick was pretty sure Uncle Desmond was needling Pam. Pam's mouth opened, and Rick could see the spark in her eye, but Eric Northman interrupted them by walking into the room.

Eric was looking far better than any of the previous times Rick saw him. The King's hair was clean and brushed back in pretty much the same way Rick brushed his own. He was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that fit snugly over his chest and shoulders, and Rick realized with a start that they'd both dressed almost identically.

"It is well to have you return to the Palace," Eric said directly to Rick. He inclined his head, then fastened his eyes on Lora and then Fran. Rick couldn't stop staring at his Father as Pam stepped forward and made introductions.

No one moved. They stood awkwardly until Doctor Ludwig broke the silence, asking, "Do you want me to go in and check on Sookie?"

Eric twitched. It was weird. It was almost as if someone had shocked him, but then Eric steadied himself, turned his head to look at Pam, and holding her eyes, said, "Yes. That would be most kind of you."

The doctor didn't waste time, she just disappeared. Eric shifted, then turned his head to look at Rick.

"What?" Rick asked. His Father was staring as him and his eyes were narrowing.

"Pam?" Eric called, tilting his head to the side, "please take your brother downstairs to feed."

Rick glanced around at Aunt Lora and Aunt Fran. He felt embarrassed, although it was kind of crazy. They knew he drank blood, but, somehow, the idea that he was going to drink from a person and that they'd know made him uncomfortable. "That's okay," Rick stammered. "I just ate. I'm fine."

"Pick his donor wisely," Eric continued speaking to Pam as if Rick hadn't said anything. "He is still new to feeding and will need time to build his skills and mastery."

"Come on, Rick," Pam walked over and touched his arm. "You're not fooling anyone. I can sense your need from across the room." Thalia was walking in, but she stopped just inside the door, waiting for Rick and Pam to leave.

Rick almost protested, but Aunt Fran pointed her finger at the door and gestured that he should get moving, so Rick gave in.

As soon as they heard the sound of the elevator doors closing, Eric turned to Fran. He wasn't smiling and he didn't look happy. He leaned forward and his fangs dropped, "What went wrong? Why didn't your spells protect her?" he hissed.

"You don't mince words, do you?" Fran sat back. "Can't say I'm surprised you're angry, but threatening an old woman isn't going to get you any answers. You think you can bully me? Take your best shot! Killing me would be doing me a favor." Eric's jaw was working, but it just made Fran smile more broadly.

Thalia crossed to stand behind Eric, but Mr. Cataliades made a show of walking between Eric and Fran's chair, "Excuse me, excuse me," he said lightly, forcing the vampire to straighten and lean back. The demon continued on his way, then seated himself on a couch and sighed. "Very comfortable!" he announced, and he patted the seat beside him, "Why don't you come and sit next to me, Lora? I'm sure we'll be offered refreshments soon and the table is very convenient to this seat."

Eric growled, but he retracted his fangs and stalked to the chair closest to Fran's and sat down, making a show of crossing his leg over his knee. "Fine," he said. "We are all friends. So, Witch, now that we are being civilized, perhaps you will be so kind as to tell me what went wrong?"

"Not too sarcastic!" Fran laughed, but then her face settled into a more thoughtful pose, "I don't think anything really did go wrong. I think that when I suffered that second stroke, something shifted. I could sense that things were off, but nothing was broken." Fran took a deep breath before telling the Viking, "The spells held, of that I'm sure, but they changed their priority. I've given this some thought and I think I understand it. The wards I put in place to protect Sookie weren't just about keeping her alive. The spells were also about keeping her happy. Protection without the comfort of a good life can be cruel. Without the component of happiness, Sookie could have ended up in a prison cell, perfectly safe, and perfectly unhappy for the rest of her life."

"But, how does what happened to her…" and Eric's head dropped.

"Keep her happy?" Fran finished. "Seems to me it's the only way she was ever going to be truly happy." Now Eric did lift his head, his face a mass of contradictions. "Look at you!" Aunt Fran purred. "You really are the most handsome man I've ever seen close up, and I've seen a bundle of them. I can see now why you would be the love of her life."

"Sookie?" Eric asked.

"Who else?" Fran said kindly. "She showed up on my doorstep, tired and angry and pregnant. She was sure she'd made some big mistake, but she was just as sure she wanted to try and turn her life around for that little baby, and she did. Rick gave her hope. He helped fill the big hole your leaving left in her life."

"Sookie was not sorry to see me go," and Eric's laugh was bitter.

"You're wrong," Fran assured him. "Sookie was heartbroken that she let you go without ever telling you how much you meant to her. The day she finally admitted to herself that Rick was your son was her best day. Rick couldn't be everything she needed, but he gave her life great purpose and he made her happy."

"She was happy when she found out he was a vampire?" Eric asked.

"She was happy when she found out he was yours," Fran told him.

Eric leaned over, his hands clasped, and glanced toward the door. "The boy will return soon, so I must say this quickly." He looked at the attorney, "You are pledged to guard Brigant's family, yes?"

"I watch over them," Mr. Cataliades agreed.

"Thalia has likewise pledged to watch over the boy," Eric told them. Thalia stepped forward, so she was standing directly behind the Viking's chair. She nodded once, demonstrating her agreement. "She will remain with him for his lifetime." Eric looked at the demon again, "I am assuming you stand ready to do the same."

The attorney sat back and he looked thoughtful, "I am," he replied.

"Good," Eric nodded. "Then that is settled."

"What's going on?" Lora asked.

"You don't think she'll make it?" Fran asked.

"Sookie is changing," Eric smiled briefly. "She will rise tomorrow night."

"And you think she'll choose to do what? End herself?" Fran asked.

"Oh," Lora exhaled. "Oh, I hadn't considered that. I guess I could see it, though," and then she looked embarrassed. "I mean, being a vampire is okay for some people," she stammered, then realizing there was no polite way to say what she was thinking, she gathered herself, and said to Eric, "but if the worst happens and Sookie should choose not to live this way, why would you send Rick away? He'll need his Father."

"Because he isn't going to continue without her," Fran told Lora. "Isn't that right?" she asked Eric directly.

"I won't lose her again," Eric said simply. "I will follow wherever she chooses to lead."

"I don't suppose I can guilt you into putting your son first," Fran observed, "because you don't really see him that way, do you?"

"I don't know him," Eric didn't sound angry, he just sounded like a man stating facts.

The sound of the elevator doors opening caused them all to turn and look. Pam and Rick walked back into the room and Rick was smiling. "Wow!" Pam exclaimed. "What did we miss?"

Eric stood and smiled. There was no trace of his earlier conversation as he said to RIck, "I am sure you would like to see your Mother."

"Yeah," Rick was looking around. He could see something was going on, but he couldn't tell what it was.

"If it would be all right, I'd like to come, too," Fran announced.

Eric slowed, and Pam walked up behind him and placed her hand on his back. It was an odd gesture, but, after a moment, Eric relaxed, turned to Fran, and said, "Of course. It would be best to have another there, for the boy."

Eric glanced at the others, and it was Mr. Cataliades who spoke up, "We're perfectly comfortable waiting here," he assured the King. "We'll all see Sookie once she rises tomorrow evening. Perhaps some tea while we wait?" Thalia pulled out her phone and started texting, and so it was settled.

Eric started moving to the door, "You are prepared for her appearance?" he asked Rick.

"Doctor Ludwig told me her skin will be there, but it'll be kind of transparent, and she'll look a little blue," Rick nodded.

"Your Mother has entered her final phase," Eric confirmed as they walked down the corridor. "She is more solid. You will be able to hold her hand if you wish," and as he said that, Pam made a point of touching Eric again. Rick almost asked about it, but then he figured if they weren't going to explain it, he probably didn't need to know.

Instead, he figured he'd ask the vampire to confirm what Doctor Ludwig had told him earlier, "Is it true that if I tell my Mom things now, she'll understand and remember what I said?"

Eric nodded, "I did. Pam did as well," and Pam smiled at him and nodded, "I have been speaking to your Mother every night, telling her of you, and of how things are here." Eric smiled, then glanced at Rick, "I'm sure your Mother will be happy to hear your voice."

Rick pulled the yellow, lined paper from his pocket, "Well, I've been giving this a lot of thought. You know how my Mom is, how she can fly off the handle sometimes until she has time to think about things?" Eric's eyebrows pulled together and Rick figured Eric did know. "Well, I know some stuff will need to change, but I think I've figured out how we can arrange things, so we can all be happy."

"You and your Mother?" Eric smiled.

"Well," and Rick looked down, "you, too, I guess." Eric stopped walking. He stared at the boy, so Rick nodded and swallowed, "I've heard a lot of stories about you and my Mom since I've been down here. I'm kind of figuring she'll want you to be a part of our lives from now on." Rick shrugged, "I think it would make her happy."

"And, you've figured out how that would work?" Eric asked slowly.

"Well, yeah…maybe," Rick blushed. "Anyway, I wrote it out and if Mom doesn't like it, she'll change it after she wakes up tomorrow. But if I tell her now, she'll have a whole night and day to think about it before she says anything."

Eric found himself in strange waters. The boy had no reason he could fathom for doing this, and yet, he had. He felt the need to touch the boy and his hand lifted, but when Rick's eyes lifted to his, so hopeful, he couldn't quite bring himself to draw the boy toward him, so instead he said, "Thank you, Rick," and then gestured for the boy to precede him into the room. What Eric didn't see was the witch's sharp eyes watching him.

Amy Ludwig was coming out of the room as Rick pushed his Aunt Fran's wheelchair forward. "She's perfect," the doctor announced. "Normal turning. I don't anticipate any bumps." Doctor Ludwig looked to Eric, "I'm heading out," she told him. The doctor turned to Rick and told him, "Remember what I told you. And you!" and Amy stuck her tongue out at Aunt Fran. "Remember to hold your temper!" and with a slight pop, Amy Ludwig was gone.

"She sure knows how to make an exit!" Fran shook her head.

"I guess," Rick sighed and pushed his Aunt forward. Eric had taken care in arranging Sookie on the large bed that dominated the space. There were candles on most of the surfaces, their soft glow made the woman dressed in the long, white nightgown glow softly as well. Sookie's hair was brushed carefully over each shoulder and it fell, curling, over the low-cut front of her gown.

"Jesus!" Fran exclaimed once Rick pushed her chair through the door, "This place looks like every bad bordello movie I've ever seen!" She turned to Rick and her words were strained, "Sweetie? Would you do me a favor, and run back in the other room to grab that shawl your Aunt Lora brought? I think I'm catching a chill."

"Sure, Aunt," Rick agreed, but everyone could see he was reluctant to go.

As soon as he left, Fran turned and hissed at Eric, "What are you thinking, displaying that boy's Mother like this? Blow those god-damned candles out and turn on some real lights! And you!" she turned to Pam who had followed them into the room, "get a blanket and cover those things up!" and she gestured at her own chest, so Pam would know she meant Sookie's breasts.

Eric drew himself up, but Pam started laughing. She flicked on a lamp and started to blow out the tapers. By the time Rick came back into the room, the lights were on, and Sookie was covered up to her shoulders with a blanket. "Thanks, Sweetie," Aunt Fran's voice was saccharine sweet as she took the shawl from Rick and used it to cover her knees. "I was feeling a little chilly. Now, let's see if we can find you a chair, so you can sit down next to your Mom," and Fran gave Pam another sharp look.

"I thought Thalia was scary!" Pam whispered to Rick as she headed back out into the hall.

"No one messes with Aunt Fran!" Rick agreed.

A chair was brought in and Rick was seated near his Mother's head. He put the paper on the bed and smoothed out the wrinkles. "Hi, Mom," he started. He smiled at her, but he found it was hard to keep talking. She did look different. She looked like she'd been dipped in some kind of shiny wax. He kept expecting her to breathe or move, but, of course, she didn't. He glanced at Aunt Fran, then swallowing, he squared his shoulders and said, "You're probably figuring out that you've become a vampire, and I'm pretty sure that you're pissed off about it. Not the vampire part, but the part where no one asked. I know how much you hate people forcing you to do anything." Rick looked up at Eric. The vampire had moved to the other side of the bed and he was staring at them. He looked pretty wound up, so Rick figured he better get on with it.

Rick reached over and took his Mom's hand in his. He could hear Eric hiss and he saw Pam leaning forward in his peripheral, but he kept his eyes focused on his Mom. "Don't be too pissed off, okay? I know it's not how you wanted it, but being a vampire like me isn't the worst thing. In fact, once you get over it, you're probably going to think it's pretty good. For one thing, we get to stay together. I mean, there's going to be lots of things I'm going to want to share with you and now that I don't have to worry about you dying too soon, I can take my time. So, you should know, I want to get married someday, but I want to make sure I get married to the right person. I'm kind of figuring just finding that person could take awhile, especially if I'm anything like you. Now? I don't have to hurry. We have all the time in the world, and you can be there whenever I find the right one."

Rick glanced at his paper, "We'll have to talk to the school about changing graduation to night. I want you to be there and I think they would do it if we asked. I heard they did it once before when one of the kid's parents couldn't get there during the day, and that was for someone they didn't even know. Everyone knows you and they like you. I know we can work it out. And Mom? I want to go back to Chester and finish school there. I know the teachers and all my friends. It's where I think I should be."

Rick looked up at Eric, "But, here's the thing. I think you should stay here for awhile. I know that means I'll board, but lots of kids do, and I'll have George to keep me company. It's just that there's a lot to being a vampire. I'm growing into it day by day, but you got shoved in the deep end, and you take a lot longer to learn things than I do." Rick laughed a little at his own joke, "You know I'm right!"

"You don't think your Mother would be more comfortable with you?" Eric asked carefully.

"I think she needs to be around other vampires who can help her," Rick said. "It's not like we won't see each other. There's Parent's weekends and vacations, but it will be easier for Chester to get up to speed with a kid vampire. Mom returning as a new vampire might be harder for our friends to understand. Besides…" and Rick glanced at Aunt Fran, "I think she'd be happier spending some time here," and Rick looked back at Eric, "with you."

"It has been many years since your Mother and I were together," Eric smiled tightly. "She will make up her own mind about this."

"Sure," Rick nodded, "I know that, but still." He glanced at his paper and started talking to his Mother again. "I want to spend Christmas together, all of us, in Boston with Aunt Fran, and I want you to come to Chester for my birthday, like always. I know we can't watch the sun rise over the pond anymore, but we can sit together on the dock, and celebrate at midnight."

"Or at two in the morning," Fran told him.

"Why then?" Rick asked.

"Because, Rick, that's when you were born," and Fran smiled at her godson.

"The witching hour," The way he said it had both Fran and Rick turning to stare at Eric.

"Like it was meant to be," Fran nodded, and then she reached into the pouch hanging on the wheelchair arm that held her belongings and retrieved her phone. "Would you like to see a picture of Rick when he was a baby?"

Eric held back, but Pam said, "Of course! I bet he was ugly," and pressing her hand to Eric's back one last time, she walked around the bed to stand next to the witch. Pam glanced at the picture on the phone and exclaimed, "You were huge! You're as big as Sookie!"

Rick turned, so he could see the photo. It was one he'd seen often. He was only a few days old, and he was lying on his Mother's chest, his eyes open, his head looking almost the same size as his Mother's due to the angle of the shot. "My friends in Chester still call me Chub. I was a monster!" Rick grinned.

"You need to see this," Pam said to Eric, and the Viking reluctantly walked around the bed. He took the phone and stared at the photo.

"There's another one," Fran told him. The Viking brushed the photo to the side, revealing a slightly older Rick, his face bright, and his head covered with a red knit hat that looked like a tomato. Fran glanced at the photo, "Oh, I remember that!" she said. "I loved that hat! Your Aunt Lora found it." The witch held up her hand for the phone, and when Eric returned it to her, she said, "I have one of him playing."

"Playing?" Eric asked. "Sports?"

"Music," Fran said to the screen, and then tapped and held the phone back for the vampire to take.

It was a video of one of the impromptu concerts on Chester Green. Rick was wearing his white shirt and beribboned vest. His bowler hat was tipped over his eye and he was playing fiddle. It had been a particularly good day and Peter walked into the video, playing mandolin, and the two of them dueled with each other, laughing. Eric looked at his son, "You have the gift of your people," he told Rick.

"What? You mean vampires?" Rick asked.

Eric Northman laughed. It was a startling sound, pleasing and full, "No," he told Rick, "the Fae. Niall Brigant would be pleased."

"Who are the Fae?" Rick asked, and Eric told him. The hours passed. Rick told Eric about Chester and his adventures, and Eric told Rick stories of his youth, stories he hadn't told anyone in close to a thousand years.

Finally, Fran yawned, "I'm sorry to break this up, but this old lady needs her sleep. Rick? Do you think you could get me back to the hotel?"

"Sure," Rick nodded. He stood, and then leaned over to kiss his Mother's cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mom," he whispered. "Sleep well."

Eric followed them from the room and when they got into the elevator, he headed to the stairs. Eric was downstairs to meet them when they exited the elevator. The Weres were there and they informed Rick they would be escorting the group the couple of blocks back to their hotel. As they were lifting Aunt Fran's chair down the stairs, Rick turned to Eric, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled and held out his hand.

Eric stared down and then at the boy. He stepped in and, before Rick realized what was happening, he was engulfed in Eric Northman's arms. "Thank you," Eric said. "Regardless of how things turn out tomorrow, know that I am grateful…" and the Viking leaned down and kissed Rick's head, "my Son," he whispered.

Rick looked up, "So," he said, his throat tight, "Tomorrow, then? Father?"

Eric's eyes shone and he touched Rick's cheek. "Tomorrow," he replied, and he stepped outside to watch the group leave. Rick couldn't help seeing the handful of watchers who were taking pictures, and he wondered what it would be like to live his life in this kind of a fishbowl. He glanced back and his Father raised his hand, and when Rick turned around, he didn't notice the spectators quite as much.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

They were tense as they made their way from the hotel to the Palace. Rick had barely been able to sleep, knowing tonight was the night. From the dark rings under her eyes, Aunt Lora hadn't slept either. Instead of going to a restaurant, Charles had arranged a private dinner for them together in the hotel courtyard. Instead of their usual banter and teasing, the dinner had been subdued. No one was sure what tonight would bring, and it weighed on each of them differently.

Amy Ludwig wasn't with them anymore. She explained that with what she'd seen, there wasn't likely to be any further need for her to monitor or treat. "Besides, I have taken too much time from my business as it is. You're not the only Supes with needs, and I'm not a charity!" she'd snarled.

"Do you think we'll all be in the room with her?" Rick asked Aunt Fran. "If Mom wakes up and she gets upset, it might be hard to get her to listen, but if you're there? Everyone listens to you, Auntie."

"I'd imagine that opening her eyes to all the people who love her would be a plus," Lora reasoned. "If Sookie's got any doubts, seeing our faces and knowing we accept her should put them to rest."

"In the end, it doesn't matter what we want," Mr. Cataliades shook his head. "The Viking will probably dictate the terms. He'll say who's in the room and who isn't."

"Maybe he should," Rick snapped, "and if my Father feels that strongly about it, maybe I'm okay with that." The feel of his Father's arms around him still seemed very fresh. "One thing I do know," Rick said more carefully, "Eric really cares about her." Rick swallowed, squared his shoulders, and said out loud, "My Father loves my Mom, and I know he just wants to do what's right by her."

Fran laughed and reached behind her to pat Rick's hand where it rested on the push bar of her chair, "You're right about that. It was written all over him yesterday. Pam had to restrain him when anyone got too close, but he fought all his instincts, because he knew your Mom would want you to be close to her. I believe your Mother is one lucky woman and she'll be a happy one, too, if she doesn't panic and let her fear get the best of her. And that's where you'll help her, Rick." Fran looked over her shoulder, "You talk with her and hug her. Remind her of what's she living for, and that's you, young man!"

As they approached the doors of the Palace, the sun was just dipping below the horizon, but Thalia was already in the hallway, waiting for them. "The King has risen," she told them. "Follow me."

"Is Mom awake, too?" Rick eyed the elevator, wondering if it would be faster to take the stairs.

"No," Thalia smiled. "Your Mother is newly-made. It may be another hour before she rises, maybe more. The sun must be fully below the earth's rim before she can rise."

"Oh," Rick exhaled. "Okay, then, we have time," and he helped maneuver Fran's wheelchair into the elevator car for the ride up to the sixth floor.

"Nervous?" Lora asked him.

"Yeah, I am," he told her. "I miss her. All I want is to hear her saying my name."

"And you will," Fran assured him. "You'll see."

Thalia was already in the corridor when the elevator doors opened and Rick figured she must have run the stairs. "Where's Pam?" Rick asked as they moved into the hallway.

"She's still in her rooms," Thalia told him. "As a vampire ages, they need less rest. Your Father and I rise even before the sun sets, although we need to remain in darkness. Pam is still relatively young. She will join us shortly." Thalia eyed Lora and Mr. Cataliades. "Of course, neither Pam nor myself will be entering the chamber for Sookie's rising. We will wait for her to join us, as is right." Thalia crossed her arms then, and didn't move.

"I suppose that means you want us to wait, too." Mr. Cataliades didn't sound pleased.

"Just until she rises," Thalia replied. "He is…the King is understandably attentive. Once she is among us, his instincts will be less…heightened."

"Eric Northman isn't her Maker," Mr. Cataliades said it in his rather formal way, "so one could argue he has no more right to be at her side than you or me."

Hearing how pushy Uncle Desmond was being made Rick mad. "You know my Father is having a hard time with this!" Rick snapped. "It's just another hour! Please? Aunt Lora, you don't mind waiting, do you?" and then he looked at Aunt Lora, using his best, begging eyes.

"None of us mind," Fran said. "I'm going to wait, too. I really think it should be just the two of you, you and your Father with Sookie at first."

"But, Aunt Fran…" Rick swallowed. He realized he'd been relying on the idea of his sharp-tongued Godmother keeping his Mom in line if things turned to shit.

"Rick, I think this is the right thing for all of you," his Aunt assured him. "There may be things you need to talk about, as a family, and it's better that you have some privacy for that."

Rick looked around the room and he thought about it some more. He could see how it just being the three of them, his Mom, his Dad, and himself could be important, and so he nodded. "Okay. We'll call you as soon as she's ready," and he looked at the door.

For a brief second, he wondered if he was going to be kept waiting, too. His Father hadn't appeared and no one said anything, but as quickly as he thought it, Thalia touched his arm. "This way," she said.

While the others finished walked to the reception room, Rick and Thalia took a left, walking back toward the suite where Rick knew his Mother was resting. When he entered the room, the lights were on, but somehow the quality of the light was softer. Eric was standing at the end of the bed and he turned when Rick walked in. "She is starting to feel her rising," he told Rick. "When you rise, it feels like sand rushing past you, or water running just under you. Soon, that feeling will gather and she will feel buoyed forward by it."

"I don't feel anything like that," Rick shrugged, moving to stand next to Eric. "When I wake up, I just wake up."

"It is that rush, the tension before rising, that reminds a vampire of the sweetness of this life," Eric told Rick. "I am sorry you don't get to experience that, but you do get the freedom of choosing the time of your rising. It's seems a fair trade."

Rick was watching his Mother's face, looking for some sign. "When I want to feel that kind of thing, like how I'm part of something bigger, I play music," Rick told his Father. "It reminds me I'm just one piece of everything and that if I try, I can be more than just myself." He stared again at his Mother's still face. "Sometimes, when the music is just right, it's like I disappear, and I'm not me. I'm everything."

Eric nodded, then glanced at the chair that still rested beside the bed. "Would you like to sit and hold her hand? It might draw her, the feeling of you being so close."

"Sure," Rick said, and then he asked, "What about you? I bet she'd be happy if you were near her, too. You could sit on the bed, maybe."

Eric didn't move closer. "I will be here," he told Rick. "It is your face she should see first, and your voice she should hear."

Rick settled in the chair and took his Mother's hand in his, but it was Eric's face that he was watching. The Viking returned his son's stare, then said, "There's something you should know before your Mother rises. The manner of her turning was not kind. The vampire, Bill Compton, he wanted her to be without blemish. It's an old custom among vampires. A Maker will remove scars or other imperfections from their progeny before they turn them. They use their own blood to heal the wounds. It strengthens the bond between Maker and child; it sends a message that as a vampire, you start your life anew." Eric stared at Rick, "You know your Mother can't be glamoured…" and then the vampire's gaze returned to rest on Sookie's face. "There was no way for him to ease her pain."

Rick swallowed as he considered what his Father was telling him. "Mrs. Hermosa told me my Mom was tortured when she lived here before and that you rescued her."

"I fought for her," Eric's words were simple, but Rick thought his Father was telling him something more.

Rick looked at his Mom, "Even when it was really hot in the summer? Mom wouldn't ever wear shorts, and she never wore a swim suit. I mean I saw them, the scars, but she wouldn't tell me how she got them."

"When I first met your Mother, she loved to wear bikinis," Eric smiled. "She would lie in the sun all day. It made her skin smell…" and then the vampire's eyes flicked to his Son's. "The scars were the work of the Fae. What Compton did to her was similar but, now, there are no scars. He removed them all."

Rick was quiet for a minute before asking, "Did that happen to you, too? When you were turned?"

Eric looked at Rick, "Yes, it did."

"But you could be glamoured," Rick bit his lip.

"But I wasn't," Eric laughed mirthlessly. "My Maker wished me to understand the great gift he was giving me, so he refused to dull any of the pain. He wished me to understand that I was his to do with as he wished."

"So, how did you get over it?" Rick asked.

"I am very old," Eric answered. "The pain you experience before you become vampire dulls in your memory. You don't remember it in the same way. And now? I am so old, and I have fought so many battles. Even when I am injured, somehow the pain I feel seems less, because I know I will heal again and the pain will be nothing but a memory."

"My Mom may need help," Rick said. "I know she seems tough, but she's really a marshmallow on the inside. What happened to her before still haunts her. To have it happen again? I don't know how she'll be with that."

"She will have whatever she needs," and then Eric stepped forward to stand next to Rick. "She comes!" he hissed. His eyes glowed and he leaned forward a little. "Stay close," he whispered to Rick, and placed his hand on Rick's shoulder. "Let her see you. Let her smell you."

Rick did lean forward. He took his Mom's hand and brought his face close to hers, "Mom?" he asked.

"Rick?" his Mom answered, and her eyes opened and she saw him. It was the most wonderful feeling Rick could ever remember.

"Mama!" Rick cried, using the name he'd called her when he was a small child. He laid himself against her, laying his cheek alongside hers. He couldn't see the panic in her eyes as she started. He didn't see the way her eyes raced around the room until she found Eric. The Viking was watching her and somehow, seeing him made it all real for her. She wasn't lost or drifting. This wasn't a terrible nightmare that wouldn't end. This was what it was and Sookie's arms lifted to hug her son to her, because as terrible as things were, they were also wonderful, and Sookie knew that somehow this was only the beginning.

When her son lifted his head, Sookie said, "So, how did you get here?"

"Well," he said and then he slid his eyes to the side, which told her right away he'd done something he knew she wouldn't like.

"Maybe you should tell me later," she said, and was rewarded with her son's quick smile. She raised her eyes to Eric, "And you found each other," she said.

Eric hadn't moved, hadn't taken one step to touch her. Sookie wondered what it meant, and she said the last thing she remembered hearing of him, "Rubio told me you might be King here now."

"I was successful," Eric nodded.

"Oh," and Sookie glanced briefly at Rick, wondering what to say next, but Gran's manners kicked in and she said, "Congratulations to both you and Freyda. I'm sure this is something…" 

"Freyda is finally dead," Eric didn't elaborate. He simply said it.

"Oh," Sookie said again. Rick was grinning at her and she stroked his cheek, marveling at how hot his skin felt. "So, you found each other," she said again, and then, "Eric, I'm sorry, I should have…"

"There is nothing to be sorry about. I explained everything while you slept. Think back. Do you remember my words?" Eric sat on the edge of the bed now.

"I thought it was a dream," Sookie whispered. "I could hear your voice," and she turned to Rick, "Yours, too. You were telling me things."

"Do you remember what I said?" Rick asked.

"Yes," Sookie said after a minute, "Yes, I remember it all." Rick watched his Mother's expression, and she looked away, biting her lip.

"Everyone is here to see you," Rick said, calling her back. "Aunt Fran and Aunt Lora and Uncle Desmond. They're all waiting to talk with you," and when his Mother's eyes became wide, he added, "when you're ready."

"Fran is here?" Sookie asked, her voice trembling. Rick nodded. It was then that Sookie looked at Eric, and the Viking reached out his hand. She placed her free hand in his and Rick saw his Mother looked stronger. "I think I need to get dressed first," Sookie told Rick. "Can you tell them I'll be out as soon as I clean up a little?"

"Sure, Mom!" Rick beamed, "You bet!" He leaned over and kissed her, and then leaned forward and placed his forehead against hers in a gesture that was theirs and whispered, "I love you, Mom!" He jumped up from the bed, almost knocking over the chair.

Rick made it to the door and turned. He saw Eric start to draw away from his Mother, but his Mother tightened her grip on Eric's hand, keeping him in place. She looked up and her smile warmed Rick. She didn't seem to realize that Eric was smiling at her with the same intensity.

Rick went back to the reception room to tell Aunt Fran and the others the good news, that his Mom was awake and happy and she'd be coming out to see all of them in just a little while. He told them everything she said and how she looked. Pam was in the room and she told them the story of how Sookie and she had ambushed Felipe de Castro's lieutenants on the road. "Your Mother is one strong lady," Pam laughed. "Doesn't surprise me at all that she'd handle this like another day."

"It runs in the family," Lora said and she told the story about Rick and how he broke his arm riding toboggans off snowy roofs.

It was over an hour before Sookie Stackhouse walked into the reception room, her arm draped around Eric's waist. She was smiling, and Rick couldn't remember the last time she'd looked so happy, but after a bit, Rick could tell his Mom wasn't fully herself yet. It was in how she'd stop talking and suddenly look away, tentative and unsure. Sookie did made a special effort to ask Aunt Fran to come back tomorrow night to talk. Rick figured it was important when she asked Aunt Fran twice.

Finally, Sookie settled on the couch with Rick beside her. She was acting less nervous, in fact, she was almost acting like her old self when she turned to him and said, "Okay, it's time to spill. I could tell there's some story about how you came to New Orleans, and I think you'd better tell me."

"There sure is!" Fran laughed, and she insisted Rick tell his Mother the full story of his 'escape' to New Orleans. Aunt Fran called it, 'Rick and George's Excellent Adventure.' As Rick was finishing, he could feel the moment his Mom stopped laughing and started getting nervous, and then stressed. He stopped talking, looked at her, and said, "Maybe we should take a short break, Mom."

"What do you mean?" Sookie asked.

"You're hungry," he shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I am, too." Rick saw his Mom's eyes grow large, and Eric, who had been standing behind them, stepped forward, looking alarmed as well. "Do you remember back in Boston when you made me drink my first blood, Rick asked, "and what you told me?"

"Kind of," Sookie was starting to look panicked.

"Well, good," Rick said, "because this is something I can do for you now. I know it sounds weird, but it's not. Not really." Rick glanced up at Eric. "I can show you how it's done and believe me, it's way better than trying to figure out something with a turkey baster."

Sookie was looking like she was going to protest when Fran cut her off, "I think that's a wonderful idea, Rick. I'm so proud of how you've stepped into your heritage, and I know your Mom is proud of you, too, aren't you, Sookie?" and Fran sat back, looking every bit the spider luring the fly into her web. "I know you'd be happy to have your son show you how to feed yourself. After all, it's something you encouraged him to learn, right? Now the student will become the teacher!"

"I don't know…" Sookie stammered.

"Where's that backbone we all admire?" Fran scoffed. "Any person looking at you now would take you for some weak woman, and we all know that's not the case! So, in the immortal words of Doctor Ludwig, it's time to 'Suck it up, Buttercup'!"

"Nice one, Aunt Fran!" Rick chuckled, and then held out his hand for his Mother. "You should probably come, too," he told Eric.

Pam was texting, "I'll have things set up in the private room we used yesterday," she told Rick.

Sookie stood and Eric took her other hand, and then raised it to his lips, "You are wonderful," he told her and there was something flying between the two of them that wasn't just friendship.

"Yeah, yeah, enough of that!" Rick blushed, and he told the others, "Don't leave yet. We'll be back."

When they reached the room where the donors were waiting, Rick explained the process to his Mother the same way Eric had explained it to him, but when it came time to congratulate her, it was Eric who placed his hand on Sookie's back. Rick fed as well, and he showed his Mom how he could heal any sign of his feeding. "You do that very well," his Mother said, her voice weak. Rick could tell she was still freaked out about it, but she was doing her best to hide it. "How did you learn?" she asked.

"My Father taught me," Rick told her, and he could see that he'd said the right thing.

When it was time to leave, Sookie asked Rick if he would stay overnight at the Palace.

"I don't want you to feel bad about this," he told her, "but if it's all the same to you, I'm going to head back to the Hotel with Aunt Fran tonight. It'll be dawn in a couple hours, and I'm really tired. I know I'll be up tomorrow morning whether I want to be or not, and I promised Aunt Lora and Aunt Fran I'd go to Café du Monde with them, but I'll be here tomorrow night when you wake up. I promise."

Sookie walked them downstairs and she and Eric stood in the doorway. She almost looked normal. She was wearing jeans and a soft t-shirt. She had sneakers on her feet and her hair was pulled back. When Rick hugged her, it felt like every time before, and Rick found his heart was starting to unwind.

As they got to the corner, just before they turned down the street that led to their hotel, Rick turned around. His Mom and Eric were still standing there, at the doors of the Palace, their arms around each other. ' _My family_ ,' he thought, and he felt how right it was.


	26. Chapter 26 - Epliogue - Turnings

**Epilogue – Turnings**

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

"So, are you ready for this?" Rick shook the kinks out of the coil of rope he'd just finished looping.

"It's been a while," George shook his head. "Let's just take it easy up the East face." It was still early in the morning and the rocks on the cliff they planned to climb would be slick with dew. Rick pulled out his new climbing harness and George whistled, "Wow, top of the line, or what?!"

"Guilt gift," and Rick shook his head.

Rick and George were sitting in their room in Dickerman House. The B&B across town where Rick grew up was open, but it was Peter who now lived in the housekeeper's apartment, handling the day the day operations with the help of his Mother, Sarah. When Rick protested his having to move into school housing when his old rooms were available, his Mother put her foot down. She told him there was no way she was letting him live, unsupervised, under the same roof with the mastermind of the Great Train Caper, regardless of how much she liked Peter.

"Heard from your Mom this week?" George asked, careful not to make eye contact. George didn't need to be a telepath to see that in spite of what Rick might say, his friend was missing his Mom. George remembered those first few months when he'd started boarding school last year. Even with his brother and sister, and all the other kids who were in the same boat, George had been lonely. Rick hadn't really said much about it yet, but George got the sense that in some respects, his friend was trading one kind of loneliness for another. George knew that even when Rick was in New Orleans, it hadn't been easy. There were realities about having your Mom only awake during nighttime hours that took a while to sink Throw in a new full-time Father who happened to be a vampire King, and it was a lot of adjustments for any guy to make.

Everyone agreed that Rick remaining in New Orleans in the months immediately following his Mother's turning would be for the best. Arrangements were made and the school agreed that Rick could be privately tutored for the remainder of the current school year. Part of the deal was that Rick would also have instruction through a larger part of the summer to make up for his unsanctioned trip.

Aside from two weeks in late July, Rick hadn't been back to Chester at all before this Fall's semester started and the changes were many. Form one, Rick lived with George, six other students, and the Rosens. The Rosens were the house parents at Dickerman. They were also instructors at the school and both of them were among those adults who quietly volunteered as donors for Rick.

"Yeah, she called," Rick shrugged. "Mom's sounding good. Better. I guess we all are."

"That's good," George smiled briefly. He knew better than to probe any further.

As he seemed to do often, Rick through about his time in New Orleans. For that first few months after his Mom became a vampire, Aunt Fran had remained in New Orleans too. Every night Rick's Aunt would go to the Palace to talk with Rick's Mom. Mostly they talked alone, leaving Rick to hang out with Pam or even Eric from time to time. After a couple weeks, a professional counselor started coming to the Palace as well to spend time with his Mom and she traded off time with Aunt Fran. That worked out okay because Aunt Fran would insist they all play cards or games. It passed time and got everyone talking.

Aunt Fran staying was also the excuse Rick needed to not move into the Palace. Rick knew that his resistance was hurting his Mom's feelings, but he just didn't feel like he could stand the idea of living twenty-four/seven in Vampire Central. Aunt Fran supported Rick at first, but eventually, even she told him that he needed to make peace with whatever was gnawing at him and announced she was headed home. And so, Rick moved to a suite of rooms on the floor just below the one his parents used.

Once he was living there, Rick couldn't avoid seeing things he wished he didn't. For one thing, Rick could see his Mom was having some kind of nightmares. She didn't scream, but she'd look hollow and drawn upon her rising. It was like before with the scars. When Rick asked about it, his Mother would change the subject or just ignore him. Finally, Rick got frustrated enough to start yelling about it and Eric interfered. It was as if someone poured gasoline on a fire, and Rick lost it. He blamed Eric and accused his Mother of forgetting about him because now she had someone new. They both ended up crying.

Eric came to his room later. He sat down on the chair in Rick's room and refused to leave until Rick agreed to speak with him.

Eric explained in detail what had happened to Sookie. He held nothing back, and he confirmed what Rick already knew. His Mom was struggling with what was done to her at Compton's hands. Eric told him that as brutal as it seemed, what his Mother experienced prior to her turning was a common practice among vampires. Like so many other things, mainstreaming was changing it, but it was the rare vampire who saw Sookie's treatment as unusual. The difference was that, for most vampires, their Maker was there to command them, and it forced a certain acceptance from their progeny. As a result, Sookie was finding little sympathy among her own kind, and that left her feeling isolate. "Don't push her away," his Father asked. "Your Mother needs you more than anyone else. You make her believe," Eric told Rick.

Eric also explained that because this was a vampire's reality, when his Mother was tortured the first time, it hadn't occurred to Eric that she would continue to be haunted by it. "Had I realized she was still in pain, I would have tried to find a way to make it easier for her," Eric told Rick. "Had she developed ways to deal with her fears then, it might have helped her now. I blame myself."

"Is that how you turned Pam?" Rick asked his Father, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I saw no reason to alter either Karin or Pam," Eric shrugged. "It did not earn me the respect of those vampires around me, but I have always followed my own path." It struck Rick that Eric said it like it was no big deal, but Rick knew enough now to know that it was. But that was his Dad, and it made Rick proud to be related to him.

That night when Eric left, Rick found he couldn't go to sleep. He kept hearing what Eric told him and it made him see vampires differently. Rick wondered what part of their sometimes-casual cruelty and more violent tendencies was because they were vampires, and what part was because of how they became vampires in the first place.

Watching his strong, laughing Mother like she was in those first months had been painful. As the days passed, though, she got better and by the time Spring was transitioning to summer heat, Sookie was laughing again.

While seeing his Mother getting better made Rick feel better, living in the Palace did not. The vampires who came and went here rarely raised their voices, preferring to speak in quick hisses that Rick could barely understand. During the day, being in the Palace was like walking around in a museum, or mausoleum, which, technically, it kind of was. At first, Rick tried to joke around with the guards or vampires who served there, but they would either defer to him or just bow and scurry away. Everyone seemed to have some purpose except Rick. He felt his loneliness as if it was an animal that stalked him.

Rick missed the everyday background of human conversation and noisy, normal life, and he found excuses to go out into the City. When the isolation of being guarded and followed became too great, Rick figured out how to slip his guard's leash a couple times and strike out on his own, but his Father found out. Eric took Rick to the warehouse where the local Packmaster arranged the guard's punishment. It was brutal and left Rick feeling nauseous, but Eric grabbed the back of the boy's arm and hissed, "Do not shame him! Stand tall and watch! At least by showing bravery you allow the others to see that you were a worthy opponent!"

On the way home, Eric explained that witnessing the punishment showed respect, but still it had been upsetting and when Rick told his Mother about it later, he knew it caused friction between his parents. One thing the experience did cure. Rick didn't want to stage escapes any more.

One of the things that might have made everything a little easier would have been having his parents relaxed and together, but the fact was, Rick's Mom and Dad were fighting. In the beginning, they seemed to fight a lot. It wasn't just side looks and snarky comments, either. It was loud, strident yelling and cutting, vicious words. In Chester, people didn't express their emotions out loud and certainly not where everyone could hear. Even when he'd been in big trouble, Rick's fights with his Mom didn't last long and they never got nasty. Now, the rules had changed and it made Rick long for home.

The King treated his fighting with Rick's Mom as if it was perfectly normal. "Are you really not getting along?" Rick asked after one particularly loud shouting match. It was during that first month and Rick almost hoped that the angry words he heard meant he and his Mother would be headed back to Massachusetts.

"Your Mother is set in her ways. I am set in mine," Eric had shrugged. "She is hard-headed!"

"And so are you," It slipped out before Rick could stop it and Rick froze, afraid his Father would turn the temper he'd been exercising earlier with his Mother on him. But he didn't. Instead, Eric paused, threw his head back, and laughed that deep, rolling laugh that mostly happened when Rick's Mom was around, before agreeing with the boy.

"It is one of the things that I admire, and frankly, that I love about your Mother. She has the heart of a lion. She's not afraid of me. She tells me the truth as she sees it, even if she knows I do not wish to hear it." Eric glanced toward the door. Eric and Rick were downstairs and his Mother still hadn't come down to join them. "Your Mother is very passionate in all her pursuits," his Father observed, and his mouth turned up in that smile that told Rick that their earlier shouting had led to something else… again.

But like the nightmares, as the months passed, the shouting became less frequent. Mom explained her bickering with Eric a little differently. "Your Father and I have lived separate lives for a long time and that means we don't always see eye to eye. You may have noticed; your Father is a little high-handed."

"He is the King!" Rick snorted.

"He is the man I've bonded with," his Mother corrected, using her bossy voice, "and that comes first. He does things that just piss me off, and I do the same to him. It's different this time…" and Rick knew she meant being bonded with his Father. He remembered what Mr. Hermosa told him about blood bonds. While a bond might mean you were really close with a person, it also meant that your thoughts and reactions had nowhere to hide. Clearly, his parents thought differently about a lot of things, and those differences were causing them to grind against each other in noisy ways.

While nights were hard, days hours were harder to endure. Of course, there were his school lessons. They took up hours, but Rick was always done by mid-afternoon and homework, didn't take long either. It resulted in hours of idle time during which Rick always seemed to be underfoot and in trouble. Once that became known, though, other lessons were introduced.

Uncle Desmond started showing up twice a week for sword training. Rick called it prancing lessons, and while there was some romance to it, it felt a fairly silly pursuit. Rick made the mistake of sharing his opinion with the demon, and his Uncle transformed from being a kind of prissy guy talking Rick through forms and foot placements to a dervish who moved really fast and had Rick on his back with the sword at his throat in no time. "Swords are the preferred weapon of your enemy," Uncle Desmond had hissed. "I suggest you start paying attention!" and Rick had. He was now passable, his natural athletic ability making the difference.

On the off days, excursions suddenly appeared on the schedule. Guides, some human, some Were, would show up at the Palace to pick up Rick and his guards. Sometimes the excursions took Rick through the City and some ventured out into the countryside beyond. Rick learned about the history of this place and he came to a new appreciation for the landscape and wildlife that filled the wilder bayou country.

One this the trips did accomplish was to remind Rick how much he missed the peace that came with being able to walk down a path, exploring what nature offered on his own time, but he found little sympathy from those around him. Every jaunt beyond the Palace walls included at least two Were guards, and there was no relaxing in vigilance. It seemed the Weres had learned their lesson with Rick and they weren't likely to let the boy forget it.

Once night fell, there were also vampire lessons. Thalia was the instructor for these, and Rick was amazed and a little appalled at the number of rules and traditions vampires were required to follow. After a particularly involved session regarding the rules surrounding Makers and their Progeny, Rick asked, "So, is my Father going to be in trouble for killing my Mother's Maker? After all, by the rules, it was a done deal. That vampire who had her; Compton? He had already turned her, and according to the rules, my Father was in the wrong."

"Your Father is a King," Thalia shrugged. "There is only one tribunal that could be called to hear a complaint against him, and the Ancient One herself would have to agree to call it, but, under the circumstances, that's unlikely."

"Why?" Rick asked. "Because Kings get away with stuff?"

"No," Thalia explained, "Because of the special circumstances. First, your parents are who they are. Vampires may be severe, but we appreciate when fate causes things to work out for those who toil long. Your parents toiled long to be together. Second, your Mother is a vampire now. No one objects to her being with your Father. In time, she will be his Queen, and that will be welcome as well."

Rick rolled his eyes. Playing fair was important for him, and this didn't sound fair at all. "So, because they made a name for themselves and they're both vampires, they can break the law whenever they choose?"

"Don't be stupid!" Thalia hissed. "While it is true that mainstreaming will change many things for us, some things won't change, or they will change very slowly. Only final death will change the way most vampires see humans. Vampires have held these beliefs for hundreds of years. Until the oldest among us are gone, the traditional ways will linger."

"So, there will always be vampires who think humans and Weres… hell, pretty much everyone else but vampires are scum, and only vampires count?" It offended Rick, but then he looked at Thalia a little closer. "But, you don't think that way, and you're pretty old."

"Your Father made me see humans differently," she told him, "but don't be fooled. There are still moments when the teachings of my own Master return, and I see humans as little more than cattle that feed me. You will learn as you grow older that there is no harder task than trying to change yourself."

It was the understanding that these lessons gave Rick about vampires that helped him manage how he interacted with others. Rick could understand now why there were some who felt he was some kind of well-connected, super vampire. Those who felt that way would try to get close to him for their own purposes. Then there were others who felt Rick wasn't vampire enough, and they were happy to see him fail or look foolish. The whole thing made Rick wary about forming friendships even when friendships were offered.

Rick figured his own half-sister, Karin, was among those who felt he wasn't vampire enough.

Karin's term as Sheriff of Area 5 only lasted a couple months before his Father replaced her with Rubio Hermosa. Rick never heard the full story, but he had a feeling it was Karin's attitude toward other species that was the reason behind her failure. Pam told him, on the rare occasion when his sister wasn't taunting Rick or using him to trick Eric, that Karin had hoped to be named Regent of Arkansas. With Karin's removal from Area 5, she was no longer being considered for that post. Instead, Karin was traveling as Eric's special envoy to other vampire monarchs, conducting business on the King's behalf.

Karin came to visit them over the summer. Summer sucked in New Orleans. It was hotter than anything Rick had ever experienced, and it was so humid you felt as if you were walking under water. Vampires didn't care. They didn't feel temperatures, but Rick did, and he was miserable.

When his whining and complaining started to even bother him, Rick's Mother suggested he invite a friend to come and keep him company. Rick's first instinct was to invite George, but his best friend wasn't available. George was still taking summer classes to make up for their adventure, and because the Hermosas didn't have the money to hire live-in tutors, George returned to Chester to complete his requirements.

Rick had heard the same story from the Headmistress. While the school understood the special circumstances that led to the boys playing hooky, there were still standards that needed to be upheld. While on the one hand it meant George was stuck with homework, he was able to stay at the B&B with Peter and Aunt Sarah. George texted photos from Rick's room and other pictures from around town, and it made Rick even more miserable.

"Choose someone else!" his Mother scolded, throwing her hands up when confronted with yet another night of pouting and misbehavior, and that was how Peter landed an invitation to come to the Palace.

Peter accepted right away, and in no time the two of them were galivanting all over town, playing music and exploring. Sookie and Eric had gifted Rick with a variety of musical instruments. "New stuff, thin sound," Peter pronounced them all. It was a valid point and Rick didn't need his friend to confirm it. They both believed that while any instrument might function out of the box, it took breaking in and years of handling to get an instrument to a place where it made music that wrapped around the night or sounded round and full.

"Next time I come down here, I'll bring your fiddle and guitar from home," Peter promised. Rick had acquired both instruments used from other musicians, and they both looked and sounded it.

Rick wasn't sure when Peter met Karin, but it didn't take long before it was clear they had met. Karin started showing up where Rick and Peter were playing music. She always seemed to know where they would be, and Peter stopped sleeping in the guest room next to Rick's. Neither Peter nor Karin did anything to publicly acknowledge the affair, but Rick rolled his eyes and told his friend he wasn't stupid. "Never thought you were," Peter shrugged, but being Peter, didn't volunteer any more.

As July started to wind down, the heat became even more oppressive. Peter headed home, making clear that melting and music were mutually exclusive activities. At first, Sookie said she was happy to see Peter gone. "I know you enjoy being around each other, but the two of you get so wrapped up in your music that you forget everything else!" But then, Pam decided she'd been ignored long enough and she manufactured something to fill the void. Her stunt was tasteless and Rick was furious. It was enough to convince Eric and Sookie that it might be a good idea to send Rick north for a few weeks.

"It's not like I completely trust you with in the same house with Peter, but your Aunt Sarah promised me she'll be there to keep an eye on things. Besides, if you stay here much longer, no one will be speaking with anyone," Sookie sighed.

Pam's pranking had started long before Rick arrived. Pam loved to trick his Father, whether it was to surprise him or embarrass him. His Father never took offense, and he was just as good at setting up tricks to pay Pam back. The first one Rick actually witnessed took place within a few weeks after Rick officially moved into the Palace. His Father and Mother were in their fighting phase and when Eric's temper flared, he had a tendency to swear. Regardless of how often Rick told her that he had heard all those words, and a lot more, Sookie lit into Eric, accusing him of being a bad role model and indifferent Father. Eric's way of handling it was to switch from swearing in English to swearing in Swedish. Sookie scolded that it was the same thing, but Eric challenged her to prove it, and when she couldn't translate his words, he laughed and continued to do as he pleased.

Pam saw an opportunity. She bought Rick's Mom the full Rosetta Stone 'Learning a Language' series, and within two weeks, Sookie had absorbed every disk and remembered every Swedish word and phrase perfectly. Pam supplemented what Rick's Mom learned with some private tutoring for the more colloquial phrases, and Rick knew his Mother was now fluent. Of course, neither Pam nor Sookie informed Eric.

Rick watched his Mother rather cold-bloodedly allow his Father to hiss at her, thinking he was being clever for almost a week before she replied to him with such speed and complexity that he knew he'd been had. Rick held his breath, waiting for his Father to explode, but he didn't. The King's jaw hung open for a long moment, but then his eyes tilted up and he laughed loud and long. Eric told his Mother how clever she was, and he looked gleeful when she confirmed that Pam was behind it.

After that, the pranks seemed to come at regular intervals, but as the summer started to heat up, they became less funny.

The straw that broke the camel's back and led to Rick's return to Chester started with Rick feeding. He was comfortable using the donors' room downstairs now, but for whatever reason, the woman he chose that night had appealed to him more than usual. She was cute and she smiled at him and then moved against him in what could only have been interpreted as an invitation. Rick blushed, and he blushed harder when Pam caught up with him and openly stared at the tent in his pants.

"Why didn't you bring her back to your room?" Pam teased. "I can see that you wanted to," and she stared at his crotch again.

"I'm a kid," Rick rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to go sexing up some stranger."

"Well, obviously, your body is ready," Pam shrugged. "You really should give it a try."

"I'm not even sure where I'd start," Rick mumbled, and then, realizing he'd said it out loud, added, "Not that I want to! No way!"

Rick thought it was over, but he should have known better. Later that night, Eric knocked at his bedroom door and came in, followed by another young woman. It was awkward. Eric was explaining how, as a young man, his Father had given him a bed slave to teach him what a man needed to know about women. Rick realized the woman was in his room to have sex with him, and not just to have sex, but to teach him things. Rick was just stumbling through how to get out of this, when his Mother appeared at the door.

Rick almost felt sorry for his Father. The Viking looked genuinely confused as his Mother raged. The woman was dismissed and the result was two days of his parents not speaking.

"Not cool!" Rick hissed at Pam, but she was completely unapologetic.

Rick explained Pam's part to both his parents separately, and the outcome was their agreement that Rick spending time with Peter in Chester was better than his remaining in New Orleans as Pam's patsy.

When Rick arrived in Chester, the theater people were already in residence for their summer workshops and that was always a fun time for everyone. There were dances and impromptu parties. Rick stayed at the B&B. Aunt Lora was in Boston with Aunt Fran, but Peter and Sarah, Peter's Mom, were there, and were just as good at running things as Sookie had been. It was an amazing time and within a day, Rick fell back into the rhythm of his home. He met up with childhood friends and ran the woods. They pulled out their boats and played in the lake. George was there the first two days after Rick's arrival and they spent time together with the other young people.

Within a short time, Rick realized that if he really wanted to be happy, he needed to come back home to Chester for school. While they'd talked about the possibility, his parents hadn't exactly agreed, but they hadn't exactly disagreed either. That night Rick talked with Peter and Aunt Sarah about things and they made plans about how it might work.

"You don't think your Mom needs you down there?" Sarah asked.

"I wish she could be up here," Rick answered honestly, "but she can't. She needs what she's getting there. It was her home all her life. This wasn't. And besides," and Rick shrugged, "my Father needs to be there, and I don't think Mom ever really wants to leave him again. I'm a kid. I'm supposed to leave someday. That's how it works."

"But you're very young," Sarah told him.

"Take a look around," Rick told her. "All the kids who come here to go to school are very young. Doesn't look to me like they're hurting too much."

Rick heard his Aunt Sarah thinking Rick was wrong. She'd lived here a long time and as much as there were boarding kids who adjusted to being apart from their parents, she remembered the faces of those kids who hadn't flourished, too. In the end, she'd just said, "It's really up to your parents."

Things were further complicated when Aunt Lora announced she wouldn't be returning to Chester. During the months she'd spent in Boston, she and Sean Bailey, their old friend and Sookie's one-time beau, had become reacquainted. Between running errands for Aunt Fran and managing the Back Bay house, Lora and Sean discovered that cooking wasn't their only mutual interest. A winter wedding was planned, and Rick worried that this would be the end of his scheme to come home.

"Where there's a will there's a way," Aunt Fran told him when he called her to bemoan his circumstances, and Aunt Fran found the way.

It wasn't what Rick really wanted, but he realized that it was a compromise that would work. Rick would live in school housing just like any other kid until he graduated from high school. Aunt Fran prepaid his entire tuition, and she told him he had money in a trust fund that would send him to whatever college he wanted to attend.

Then Aunt Fran called his Mother and told her what she'd done. When Sookie argued, Aunt Fran explained in hard words why this was so important to Rick.

"Things are different," his Mother protested to Fran. "Rick is known as the King's son now. You don't understand the kind of trouble that can follow him."

"And those kids in Chester are any different? You know the deal there. Everyone will look out for him, and his life will be normal again. You owe Rick that, even if it's hard for you." In the end, Fran won. She always did.

Fran officially hired Peter to run the B&B. It seemed a bold move, but Fran must have had some insight. Peter quickly settled into the role and while guests missed Susan Hale's Southern cooking, they warmed to meals that featured local produce and Peter's homemade breads and beers. The music he provided in the evenings was an added draw, and soon it was more than just school parents who wanted to book a room at the B&B.

"It still feels like my home," Rick confessed to his Aunt Fran one night. "It's just kind of hard to think I can't go back there."

"It will always be your home," Fran assured him. "I've made arrangements and when you turn eighteen, the ownership of the Chester house will go to you. You belong there, Rick. Never you worry."

"But, what about my Mom?" Rick asked.

"Your Mom will take care of herself. She'll find some work down there in New Orleans that appeals to her, and she'll do it. I can't ever see her hanging around in fuzzy slippers, eating bon bons."

"Not to mention, they'd make her sick," Rick chuckled.

"Fine, sipping bon bons! Anyway, I've set up a bank account, so she has 'fuck off' money whenever she needs it." Rick knew what Aunt Fran meant. He'd heard her tell more than one woman over the years that it didn't matter how much someone loved you, every person needed a pile of cash that would let her pick up and leave if she wanted. Fran believed it was knowing that freedom was possible that kept things between consenting adults healthy. "But you should know, Kiddo, I'm leaving you everything. The house here will be sold, and the cash will go to you. I want you to use it to buy up as much land as you can around Chester. Folks there know the value of open land now, but that might change over the years. If you buy it up and keep it safe, Chester will stay the way it is for a long, long time."

"You sure you want to make that decision? You could always think about it later," Rick told her. His throat was tight and his eyes were watering. His Aunt Fran was better, but lately she'd been dropping hints that she was ready to pass, and he worried she'd take care of it, the same way she took care of everything else.

"You're the son I never had," Fran told him. "Would have been better if you'd been a girl, of course," and she laughed, "but you turned out okay. I want you to have it."

Fran's latest battle was a long-distance war of words with the Chester Town Meeting. Fran wanted a construction permit to convert the rooms at the B&B so they could be light tight. While everyone had been fairly accepting of Rick, he could hear the undercurrent of concern when news of his Mother's change started circulating, and so the permit had run into one snag after another. Fran sent presents, then Sarah, then Mr. Cataliades, but all to no avail.

It was Peter who finally turned the tide. He stood up in the center of the Assembly and spoke. He used words and gestures in an outpouring that was so rare, it took everyone by surprise. He told them the story of who Sookie was before she was turned, and who she had been among them. Then he told the Assembly about the violence that had been perpetrated on her, and how had this been a human man who had done this, they all would have rallied around her. The support wasn't universal, but the permit was granted. The construction wouldn't be completed until Christmas, but it would be done, and next Spring, when Rick turned fourteen, his parents would have a place to stay in town to help him celebrate.

The climb up the cliffs was satisfying for both boys. It felt irksome to have to file their plan and schedule with Mr. Rosen before they left, but when Rick was thinking clearly, he knew it was only prudent and doing it made him almost feel grown up.

As Rick and George sat on the rock lip on the mountain's summit, looking across the valleys that stacked one in back of the other, painted in their best fall colors, Rick said, "I can't see living anywhere else. I think this is it for me."

"That's going to disappoint Maddie," George teased him. When Rick looked puzzled, George cocked his hand on his hip, rolled his eyes, and said in Maddie's Southern accent, "You'll see, George! When Ricky and I grow up, we're getting married and we are going to be the most amazing couple in all of Louisiana."

"Your little sister is crazy," Rick scoffed. Maddie Hermosa would be coming to their school next year as she'd made a point of telling Rick already. Last week, she'd handed Rick a swatch of pink cloth and told him that when the time came, he should make sure that he matched that color. Later, in their room, Rick showed George the fabric and asked him if he knew what it was about. George had to stop laughing before he could tell Rick that Maddie had already picked out the dress she intended to wear as Rick's date to his eighth-grade graduation dance next year.

"I don't even know if I'm asking her," Rick snorted. "And why would I take a sixth grader? Jeez! She's just a kid."

"Yeah, I think Mom dropped Maddie on her head a few too many times," George giggled, but deep down they both knew Rick would take her rather than crush her feelings.

"How's your Mom handling being 'Mrs. Sheriff' of Area 5?" Rick asked, happy to move the conversation to any topic other than Maddie 'Pushy Pants' Hermosa.

Rick had heard Thalia tell Eric that Mr. Hermosa was doing well as the new Sheriff, but Rick also remembered Mrs. Hermosa saying she worried about her husband taking a more powerful position. She worried that climbing higher in the vampire hierarchy made Mr. Hermosa and her family targets.

"Mom said it's better than she expected. Most days it's pretty normal, not so many late nights, but I think there's folks down there who still give them a hard time because she's human," George said, checking the bindings on his vest again. "She told me she likes Mustapha Khan, though. She told me she's hoping he tries for Packmaster when Alcide Herveaux steps down.

"I kind of thought that Packmaster changes required a fight," Rick looked out across the landscape, remembering the night he'd spent with the Were and his mate, Warren.

"I'm not sure," George shrugged. "With all your Supe lessons, you probably know way more about it than I do."

"Hey, if you're interested, I'll tell you everything I find out," Rick offered. Together, they stood and stretched, getting ready for the descent. Going down was easier. This climb had set pitons over the trickier places on the rock face, so there was no having to remove their own anchors as they went lower. Still, it was nearing sunset by the time they stumbled back to their house and hit the showers. In two days' time, it would be Parent's Weekend and they would be seeing their families again.

 **xxxXXXxxx**

It was the first time Rick had ever attended the official Parent's Weekend events at one of the schools. It wasn't that he and his Mother objected to them when they lived here. It was more that townies had their circle, and the schools had theirs. While it was true the town kids attended the boarding schools, during Parent's Weekend, the town had other events for their own, and everyone was okay with that.

The wealthy and famous parents who sent their children to school had started their weekend earlier with a formal tea held in the afternoon on the school lawn. This evening, there was a fancy, official dance complete with suits and ties. Everything was spruced up and party manners were on full display, but it didn't need saying that those attending exemplified that easy arrogance that said, "I belong."

The town people of Chester understood that in many ways, this world of boarding schools and old money would never be their world. So on the night of the fancy dance, the town held their annual Fall Ball. It was casual. People brought dishes for potluck and the band set up on the stage of the Town Hall basement. After drinking and eating, the lines formed and they danced. The foxtrots and electric slides that were being played on the other side of town were not for them. The people of Chester danced contra dances and old time waltzes, the music provided by the townspeople themselves.

But this year, Rick wasn't going to the Fall Ball. When he'd asked, his Mother had told him of course they would be attending Parents' Weekend. It was the way she said it that kept Rick from protesting. He didn't want his Mom to think he was embarrassed by her, and so, here he was, shuffling nervously near the front entrance of the school assembly hall, waiting for his parents to arrive.

Rick knew Eric and Sookie flew up last night from Louisiana with the Hermosas and they were all staying a few towns over at a special inn that had vampire accommodations. Rick checked his watch again. He couldn't help worrying. It was the first time his Mother was coming back to Chester now that she was a vampire, and Rick had been hearing speculation from the thoughts of those around him all day.

The people who ran the schools knew that Susan Hale was now Sookie Stackhouse and they were looking forward to seeing her again, but most of those here, adults and kids alike, didn't really know her. What they did know was that Rick's parents were vampires, and there was a rumor that Rick was too. For those adults who had heard of Susan Hale, Rick didn't hear any particular negative impression. He even heard some adults who had stayed with her when she ran the B&B and they were wondering whether she'd been a vampire even then.

The real surprise for Rick was how many people were thinking about Eric Northman. Rick knew his Father was a businessman and that he had connections, but it never occurred to Rick that his Father's reputation would be so widespread or so well known among these people.

Of course, many of the parents here tonight had met Rubio and Lily Hermosa last year during school gatherings. Their impressions of vampires were based on the Hermosas. They thought about Mr. Hermosa's courtly way and Mrs. Hermosa's relentlessly matching dresses and accessories. Rick thought of his own parents who were relentless in their own way, wearing casual clothes to most occasions and bickering at the drop of a dime, and Rick's anxiety level ratcheted again.

Rick even caught a few people talking about how they welcomed the idea of the school fostering diversity, but worried that hosting a second vampire couple was perhaps overdoing it more than a bit. It was the kind of remark that set Rick's teeth on edge and had him turning to confront the snobs, when one said, "Of course, we are talking about Eric Northman. While I may not like his religion, or whatever that whole thing is, I can't argue with him. He is, after all, a cut above in any crowd," and the conversation had concluded. It left Rick feeling an odd mix of pride and uneasiness.

"Stop fidgeting," George elbowed Rick. "You're making my pits sweat!"

"I can't help it," Rick sighed. He glanced inside at the paneled room and the well-heeled people squiring their well-heeled children. "Even when we were living here we never came to these things! I mean, I don't think Mom even owns a dress like that." Rick glanced down at his own white shirt and tie. Rick hadn't checked until too late to discover his suit didn't fit, and he'd left the jacket behind, feeling good about rebelling against the establishment, but now standing among his suited fellow students, he didn't feel so brave. "I feel like an imposter!" he told his friend.

"What's your problem? You think your parents are going to show up here in black leather and denim?" George laughed, but when Rick didn't laugh in return, George quickly sobered and said, "Even if they did, they're your parents. They're coming because they miss you. What does it matter what other people think?"

"Yeah, I guess," Rick growled, and then he stopped. His parents were walking through the door and the sight of them made his jaw drop. His father was wearing some kind of expensive black suit that fit him like it was custom-made and his Mom just sparkled.

"Were you waiting for us?" Sookie smiled, gliding toward him in black patent leather pumps. She was still shorter than him even in heels, and she reached up to push back the hair that fell over his forehead. "I think you've grown another inch," she sighed, and she pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek as she hugged him. "Please tell me you're happy," she whispered in his ear. "It's the only thing that makes missing you this much okay."

"You look really good," Rick said in a rush. She did. His Mom was wearing a black dress that looked like all the other black dresses in attendance tonight, and her hair was swept up in a fashionable twist. She was wearing a gold chain that had stones set at intervals and Rick wondered if they were diamonds.

"We do clean up pretty well," Sookie grinned and turned her head to glance up at Eric. Rick couldn't help noticing the long, black clip that held her hair. It was studded with sparkling stones, too.

"Do you need a suit?" Eric asked. Rick glanced down at his shirt. The way his Father said it made Rick wish he hadn't been so stubborn and tried on his clothes when his Mother asked him. He was able to get into the matching pants, but only because Mrs. Rosen had spent her afternoon letting the hems down.

"It's okay. I'm good," Rick shrugged to cover his embarrassment, and when his Father continued to stare at him, his eyebrow raised, Rick sighed, "Okay. Maybe I was too stubborn about things. Now we know, so I'll have the right clothes for next time. Anyway, welcome to Chester," and Rick automatically held his hand out, then, catching himself, brought it back to his side, and bowed.

"We're not in vampire territory," Eric smiled. "I think a hug would do," and the Viking opened his arms.

Rick hesitated. He and his Father were on better terms, and most times he even thought of him as 'Father' in his head, but it had been a couple months since he'd seen him and Rick felt his old awkwardness return. He glanced at his Mom, and then, suddenly, everything was okay. He stepped into his Father's embrace and it felt good to feel the strength of those arms around him. He glanced to the side to see Mrs. Hermosa wiping her lipstick from George's cheek, and somehow Rick knew that tonight was going to be just fine.

When Eric released him, his Mother asked, "Well, Kiddo, are you ready for this?"

"I guess I could ask you the same question." Rick looked carefully at his Mom's face. The anxiety she had worn in those first months in Louisiana really did seem like a thing of the past.

"You think I'm afraid of some old bunch of stuffed shirts?" she teased, and Rick saw his sassy, take no prisoners Mom really was back. Sookie leaned in and took Rick's arm. Together, they all walked into the hall and got into the line of those waiting to officially greet the Headmaster. It was a ceremonial kind of thing. Each student was expected to introduce his parents to the Headmaster and there was usually some hand shaking and a photograph. For most, it was this same portrait over the years that tracked a child's growth.

Rick watched George do the honors for this parents, and he stepped up and managed to walk through his lines without stammering or having his voice break.

"It's so lovely to have you back, Susan," the Headmaster said, and then immediately apologized, "I mean Sookie!" He turned to Rick, "You did a creditable job, young man, and I managed to hear only what I wished."

"You've know me for years as Susan," Sookie smiled, "Of course, I understand!"

"And now you are reunited with Rick's Father," the Headmaster continued. Heads turned and eyes fastened on Eric. "The resemblance is remarkable!"

"We are very fortunate," Eric said smoothly, and he lifted Sookie's hand to his lips.

After they completed their meet and greet and posed for their portrait, the family walked toward where the Hermosas were standing. On the way they were intercepted by a man Eric knew from his days in Oklahoma. He seemed sincere as he told Eric how sad he was to hear about the passing of Eric's wife, Freyda. Rick held his breath. Someone had brought Freyda up in New Orleans and his Mother had just about blown a gasket, but tonight, his Mom just smiled. The way Eric answered told Rick this was something he and his Mother had worked out in advance, and it was smoothly delivered, "Freyda's passing was a tragedy, but some good came from it. I was freed to reunite with my first love, and at long last she has consented to become my wife."

The man asked permission to call over his family. "I've told my wife and kids about you for years," he told Eric. "I wouldn't survive if I didn't give them a chance to meet you."

A lovely brunette woman glided toward them, and behind her trailed the man's daughter, and Rick realized with a jolt that he knew her. Her name was Jessica and she was in the class just behind his. Rick had noticed Jessica in the halls and in the past week, he'd found himself starting to look for her on the lawns. As introductions were made all around, Rick could hear that this man saw his Father as someone who was successful and he wished to know Eric Northman and his family better. Just knowing that the man thought so well of his family gave Rick the courage to openly smile at Jessica, and for some reason, she smiled right back at him. Rick felt as if his chest would explode. Jessica was pretty much perfect with her long blond hair and pretty brown eyes.

"Hi, Rick!" The greeting was so sudden and so loud that Rick jumped before turning to see Maddie Hermosa. She was standing right at his side and she slipped her hand through his arm, smiling up at him before turning to Jessica. "Oh, is this someone you know from school?"

Rick felt panic overtake his former, happy glow. His smile froze and he could see George standing well behind Jessica, pulling faces.

"You don't go to our school, do you?" Jessica replied. Her smile had also taken on a frosty quality and there was a hint of waspishness in her voice. Rick felt a strange, prickly heat start to gather just under his collar. The daggers that were flying between the girls, wreathed in their smiles was uncharted territory, and Rick desperately wanted to get away from it.

The DJ started the music, and Lily Hermosa was suddenly beside George, pulling him to the dance floor and out of eye contact with Rick. Mr. Hermosa approached them as well, claiming Maddie. "Promise me you'll save me a dance, too!" Maddie simpered before taking her Father's hand.

"Good grief," Sookie laughed as she circled Rick's waist with her arm, "She's ten going on twenty!"

"Yeah," Rick sighed, looking around and realizing Jessica had walked away, "Maddie's kind of like lint."

"Oh, I don't know," Sookie squeezed her son a little closer, "sometimes lint is kind of nice."

"On tape. In the garbage," Rick grumbled, and then looked at his Mother's hand. She was wearing a ring that seemed to spark every time she moved. "So, that's the ring, huh?"

"I'm finally wearing it," his Mom grinned. They looked to where Eric was still speaking with Jessica's father. While his Mother beamed at his Father, Rick scanned the dance floor. His heart dropped a little when he saw Jessica dancing with another of his classmates. When he looked at his Mother, it was to find her looking right back at him.

"So, you going to tell people you're married this time?" Rick couldn't help asking the question. During the time he'd spent in Louisiana, he'd heard all kinds of stories about his Mother and her refusal to acknowledge her vampire marriage to his Father.

"I am!" his Mother cuffed Rick's arm. "I'll even live with him!" she laughed, then nudged her son again. "Smartie! We haven't talked about dates yet. It's not like there's any rush. I know he's going to talk with you about it. I don't think he wants to give me any outs this time."

Rick could see her happiness, but there were still questions he had about his parents' relationship. "Why didn't you want to tell people you were married the first time?" Rick asked.

"I don't know," Sookie sighed, and this time when she looked at Eric, he looked right back at her. Rick couldn't help staring. The look that passed between his parents was like a solid line. His Mother and the Viking could have been at opposite ends of the room and you would still see the connection between them.

With a sigh, Sookie turned back to her son, "I suppose I wasn't ready to be married, not really. And your Father never really asked. He showed up in a hallway and offered himself like the best of bad choices, and then he had Pam hand me a knife with no explanation. He was so cocksure of himself, or," and his Mother looked away, "or it could have been that he was a little afraid that if he really told me what he wanted, I'd say no."

"Pam swears it was love at first sight for Dad," Rick told his Mom.

Sookie's eyes took on a sudden shine and she quickly reached up to touch a corner of her eye with her finger, "I guess I didn't think of that. What I will tell you is your Father had a helluva way of showing it!"

"So, what do Pam and Karin have to say about you getting married again?" Rick asked. Rick still wasn't really speaking with either of his step-sisters.

His Mother laughed, "Well, Pam is delighted. She's planning the whole thing. I know you two got into a rocky place, but she really does miss you. She sent you a gift, by the way. We'll give it to you later."

"Is it going to explode?" Rick snarked.

Eric chuckled as he rejoined them. "Pamela is learning, as am I, that how you tease those who are younger is different." Rick wasn't surprised that his Father overheard their conversation. Hyper-sensitive hearing was something vampires seemed to have and it was still an adjustment for Rick.

"Guess Karin's still holding out, though," Rick said, nodding to some classmates as they walked past.

"Karin asked about coming up here for an extended visit," his Mother replied. "Do you know anything about that?"

Rick immediately thought about Peter and wondered if the two had kept in touch. It seemed unlikely, but he couldn't come up with any other explanation. "Maybe she's doing some research," he offered.

The DJ queued up the music for a line dance that was popular at weddings. Although Rick knew the steps, it wasn't the kind of dancing he really enjoyed. Sookie leaned into him and said, "Do you think the Fall Ball is still going on?"

"You know it is!" Rick exclaimed, but then glanced down at himself and added, "Are you sure? I mean, we're kind of overdressed."

"I don't think anyone would mind," his Mom laughed, "Not really. Well, except Maddie, and I think you wouldn't mind being rescued from her!"

They sneaked out the front doors and into the parking lot. It didn't take long to drive across town and in that time, Sookie slipped out of her pumps and into flat shoes. She let her hair down and tugged at Rick's tie, "You don't need to wear that anymore!"

When they pulled into the Town Hall parking lot, Eric stood beside the car, pulling off his suit jacket and removing his tie. He unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Rick looked from one parent to the other. His Mom and Eric were smiling like kids playing hooky, and Rick couldn't help grinning along with them.

Aunt Sarah was near the double doors and she yelled, "Susan!" As they walked into the foyer, those clustered around the potluck tables turned too. Most of the faces were those Sookie and Rick knew, neighbors for over ten years. There was hesitation from some, but most advanced on them, arms open, intent on hugging their returned friend. "Oh, you are chilly!" Sarah giggled.

"Yup, no hot flashes for me," Sookie joked.

"Lucky girl," the Mayor's wife laughed, and then she turned to Eric, who was standing to the side.

Rick couldn't help noticing that the Mayor's wife wasn't the only one staring at his Father. The other women were staring and there were people walking out into the foyer, and they were staring too.

"This is Eric Northman, my fiancé," Sookie told the Mayor's wife.

Aunt Sarah said what Rick could hear some of them thinking, "So, you really ended up with Rick's Father? Guess it's kind of nice that you are making an honest man out of him, even if it is thirteen years too late!"

Rick could tell that most of his friends were thinking he looked exactly like his Father. It made him stare at the Viking again. He just couldn't see it.

"She did keep me waiting a very long time," his Father said, smiling in that easy, charming way he had. "I can't believe she took pity on me at long last!"

"And you're still on a trial basis," Sookie snapped, her eyes teasing, "and don't you forget it!"

"Well, Eric," Aunt Sarah exclaimed, "If you ever get tired of chasing Sookie, you have my number!" Sookie laughed, but she was cut short when Eric grabbed her to him and kissed her well enough that she just about melted into him.

When he released her, he teased, "I'm going to make sure you don't think about trading me in, Lover!"

"Wow!" Aunt Sarah exclaimed, "He's got the looks, Sookie. Now, we'll have to see if he can dance," and Rick was suddenly worried. Contra dancing was line dancing, but it was a series of movements involving turns and forms. If a dancer couldn't remember the sequence, they could throw the whole line of dancers off. Sometimes there'd be a quick session at the beginning of a dance when there were newcomers, but tonight, there'd be no lessons. There were rarely newcomers at the Fall Ball. Most just knew the steps.

"You better get yourself inside!" Sarah motioned to Rick. "Peter is already getting tuned. He brought along his extra fiddle. He was hoping you'd show up!" Rick glanced at his parents, and then, setting aside his nervousness, made his way to the basement. First, Rick unfastened his shirtsleeves and then he rolled his cuffs. He lifted the extra fiddle and tucked it under his chin. Peter laid down his own fiddle and picked up his mandolin. Chuck, the man who ran the hardware store, was strumming through a few chords on his guitar and Chuck's wife was leaning on the stand-up bass.

By the time Rick finished tuning and taking a couple test draws across the strings, people were already taking their places to begin. Rick saw his Mom and Dad walking into the hall, and he saw his Mother walk them to the far side where the chairs were set. He figured his Mom shared his worry, and decided to sit the dance out rather than risk stepping on feet and throwing people into confusion.

"You ready?" Peter asked everyone, and he counted out. They launched into a favorite and the couples snaked around each other, working up and down the columns, handing each other across, swinging away. Rick focused on Peter's fingers, and then Chuck's, keeping time and changing keys. When they segued into the next song, the dancers continuing their progress, Rick lifted his eyes and he saw his Father, towering over the others, stepping gracefully through the patterns, steering his Mother who laughed up at him with the clear, open expression of a girl much younger than herself. As they neared the stage, Rick found himself watching them, their dancing so perfect, their happiness so apparent.

"Of course," he sighed, "they're vampires! All they needed to do was see the steps once!"

"What?" Peter asked him, leaning low.

"I'm the luckiest guy I know," Rick told him.

Rick played until his fingers felt numb, and when he took a break, he took his Mom around the dance floor, spinning her to the strains of the Tennessee Waltz. "Do you miss it?" he asked her.

"I miss you," she replied, and then, almost unconsciously, she looked around and Rick knew she was searching for his Father.

One of the outcomes of her turning was this his mother, the famous Sookie Stackhouse, was no longer telepathic. Most times it didn't seem to bother her, but Rick suspected that his Father helped to bolster her confidence through their bond. Times like this when Rick was sure she was a little tired, he could see her trepidation more clearly. Rick looked around too, but couldn't see his Father. "Where'd he go?" he asked, but he was really just asking himself.

"I don't know," his Mother answered. "We were talking about the decorations." The room was draped in corn shocks and pumpkins. There were baskets of gourds and colored leaves.

"Maybe he doesn't like Fall," Rick shrugged.

"Well, I do!" his Mother exclaimed, and taking Rick's arm, she said, "Let's go down to the dock! I love the pond. I may not be able to see it with the sun glittering on it, but I bet with the moon out tonight, it's just as pretty."

"You bet!" Rick agreed. His Mom didn't bring it up often, her losing the light, but he figured it had to weigh on her from time to time.

The dock was a short walk from Town Hall, and they passed the B&B along the way. The lights were on, but they knew it was quiet inside. The residents were at one party or another, and Rick felt drawn to head up the path, his Mom and him, just like old times. His Mom must have known, because she drew him toward him and hugged him.

They got to the pond and Rick stepped aside. "Nature calls," he laughed. "I'll meet you on the dock!"

Rick stepped into the trees, and when he'd finished, he swung back to the path. He saw his Father descending to stand right in front of his Mother, and he handed her something. It looked like flowers, but it wasn't. As Rick got closer, he realized his Father had handed his Mom a bouquet of leaves, each one a different color.

"He brought me Fall," his Mom told him, her voice tight with emotion.

"You brought me everything," Eric smiled in return, and then lifting his arm, inviting Rick into their embrace.

It was a perfect moment, their arms around each other, bathed in moonlight. They were one family: Together.


End file.
